ONE
by LaValentina
Summary: Hector and Andromache. Their story before Parris met Helen and ruined everything.
1. Mawiage

The sky was an impossible blue, Apollo raced his chariot across the sky, and a strong breeze blew. It was a good day for sailing. That was all that Hector could think. Sailing was probably all the day was good for. He could have been doing many things as of now. Racing his horse across the Trojan beach, teaching his brother swordplay (or at east attempting to.), reading a book...but he was on a ship, on his way to claim Andromache; his bride, his wife to be. He hadn't even given the idea of marriage a second thought until the news had been broken to him a few weeks ago. He didn't want to get married. He hadn't the slightest idea what to do with women in general let alone a wife. On the extremely odd occasion that one of them actually noticed him, he would smile, nod, and let Parris have his fun. He mostly shied away from them. He'd had his fill of them at an early age and had lost interest in bedding women simply for the hell of it. Now an emotion other than lust was imperative and because of it, his nightly numbers had dwindled significantly, almost into non existence. Now he was to claim one for life, produce an heir the whole deal. The code of Troy said 'love your woman', but how could he? He didn't know her, had never even met her and now he had to love, honour, cherish, respect... it made his head spin. Truth be told he was absolutely terrified. He didn't like being afraid. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach and immediately his jaw hardened, his head raised and he squared his shoulders as if to intimidate his emotions into submission. He cut an imposing figure despite his young age of twenty and seven, with his powerful arms and chest and corded limbs. His black eyes, chiseled, faintly bearded face and long unruly, curly, dark brown hair held back with tiny round golden clips made him look stern and hard, cold even. He was taller than most men he knew and more gifted in battle than most of them. It didn't make him feel more confident; it made him feel awkward, too tall, too strong, and too stern. People were terrified of him and he had never even met them. He rolled his shoulders and tugged at the frayed hem of his shirt. It was soft cotton; deep blue, with detail along the edges, and one tie in front. It was loose, with no sleeves, and stopped at mid-stomach. The matching skirt reached just below his knee and rested and tied at his hip. He raised his face to the sea breeze and inhaled deeply, relaxing gradually. It wouldn't do to dwell on it. They still had a ways to go yet a good few hours perhaps. _'Relax'_ he thought. _'He's just a girl,'_

"Prince Hector." A captain of the vessel said.

"Yes?" Hector replied in his gruff, deep, voice.

"We will be arriving shortly." Hector fought down the instinct to panic and gave the man a curt nod. He bowed and left and Hector turned to face the now visible shoreline of Thebes.

_'Oh Apollo what am I going to do!!!' _

_'Just calm yourself.' _

_'How in the world can I do that?! I'm going to be there in half an hour at most!!' _

_'Stay calm. It won't do you any good to panic.' _

_'Well what else am I going to do?!!?' _

_'Breathe, think of something else.' _

_'What?' _

_'Not too sure about that one.' _

_'Thanks.' _

_'It's what I'm here for.' _

_'Go away.'_ He told himself. It was what he did when he felt threatened or confused. He talked himself into reason. Most time it worked... and then there were others when the mollifying voice in his head actually started to panic. He moved below decks and changed into his formal wear. As he slipped on his gauntlets and tried to salvage his hair as much as was possible he hoped that he wouldn't embarrass himself. He ended up surrendering in about less than five minutes; his hair was not in the mood to be tamed, the bastard. The ship reached the dock and Hector disembarked, took a deep breath, and turned to face the welcoming party. And old yet strong looking man in regal robes came up to him with open arms and a smile. Beside him, a tall, slender, striking woman stood with a welcoming smile, her dark hair was streaked with silver.

"Prince Hector." The man said embracing him warmly. "Welcome to Thebes."

"Thank you. You are King Eetion?"

"I am. This is my beloved wife Ariana,"

"My lady." Hector said bowing respectfully. She inclined her head in turn, her amused and insightful smile still in place, her brown eyes sparkling.

"Prince Hector. We are so glad that you arrived safely. Was the journey pleasant?"

"Yes indeed, quite swift and smooth m'lady. Poseidon blessed us." His eyes drifted as he was introduced to the other members of the party, nodding smiling, and shaking hands when necessary but his mind was elsewhere. Where was she? Did he have to die from suspense?

"She was a bit upset this morning, she refused to come down." Ariana said, correctly guessing his thoughts. "But she will be there for the banquet in your honor."

"Banquet?" before he could stop himself the words were out. Did there have to be a banquet? He was nervous enough as it was.

"Yes. For our honored guest," She replied suppressing a chuckle. "You."

"I...I knew that." Hector replied to their laugh before following them to the chariots that awaited them. As he gripped the reigns he looked around him, taking in the country of Thebes. It was beautiful enough, with it's colourful stalls and buzz of life. As they neared the palace gates he looked up to see a woman, possibly a girl, staring down at him form a high window. There was no malice but quite a bit of hostility in her eyes as she gazed. Her hair was cinnamon brown, very curly and very long and she seemed a bit on the skinny side. Her dress was lavender trimmed with gold embroidery, but he couldn't make out her features.

"Our daughter, Andromache." Eetion said following his gaze and Hector fought down another wave of nerves which caused him to square his shoulders and raise his chin. She stared a minute longer, their eyes locking in a fierce battle before he passed out of her sight and they were forced to look away. A little wisp of a woman was not going to intimidate him he swore to himself. _'Soon I will be her lord and master and not the other way around.'_ But he knew that if he were to become that way, then he would be no better than a tyrant, and not a husband. He sighed and dismounted his chariot following Eetion into the palace. It was magnificent with it's marble and alabaster halls and golden gilding. The murals and frescos on the walls of great battles passed and legends. He briefly wondered whether or not he would ever be a legend, or live on in great tales. He doubted it somehow; he just didn't think that he had that kind of strength in him. Three young men came up to them and Eetion greeted them warmly. "These are my sons, Euklides, Theseus and Arimedes-" he said gesturing to each one in turn. They all looked like their father except for Theseus who favored Ariana.

"I hope that you enjoy your stay in Thebes, Prince Hector." Euklides said kindly. Hector nodded and smiled fighting down the urge to run his hands through his hair. It was a bad habit, one that led to the constant state of disarray that his hair was always in.

"Thank you Prince Euklides."

"Shall I show you to your room Prince Hector?" Arimedes asked.

Yes please, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all, come with me." He replied and Hector followed. Briefly he wondered whether or not anyone would notice if he gave in to his nervous inclination. He wanted to so badly, his hands were itching to but instead he clenched them into fists. He was led to a well sized chamber, about the size of his room back home. It was painted in muted tones of amber and brown and mahogany. Sandalwood incense burned in the corner of an oak dresser. The bed had silken sheets of burgundy and taupe. He walked through a curtain of linen and onto a balcony as a strong wind blew. It was perfect and he could feel his nerves melting away, the cool formality evaporating. "Is it to your liking Prince Hector.?" Arimedes asked coming up to him.

"Yes. Yes it's perfect." He replied and then he turned to face him. "And call me Hector,"

"Why?"

"The title makes me a bit nervous." He admitted and the other man smiled and nodded. "In any event, we are to be brothers soon, and then I wouldn't have you address me so formally."

"As you wish. We dine with the setting of the sun."

"Thank you." Hector replied, forming a liking to him. Arimedes nodded and left closing the door behind him.

_'That wasn't so bad was it?'_ the voice was back again.

_'You again.'_ He sighed and reentered his room sitting down on his bed. He looked up and caught sight of a mirror by a vanity set. His hair was wind ravaged despite his efforts, his eyes were unnaturally dark and his mouth was stern. He was twenty seven, should he be looking like that?

_'You are also the eldest son of king Priam, crown prince, the defender of Troy, and as such, all eyes are on you.'_ He closed his eyes, shutting out the image and buried his face in his hands. He longed for the days when he was just Hector. Not a great warrior, not the defender of a nation or crowned prince; just Hector. Then again, had he ever been that way? Carefree and innocent, like Briseis and Parris? No, not really he gave a short laugh and shook his head wryly. Since he was born everyone had looked to him to make things right, that was his duty, his responsibility.

_'No not a duty, you love Troy, you love your people, your family it's not a duty to protect them, it's simply what you must do.'_

_'I know that but...'_ he shook his head to clear the thought. _'Go away.' _

His head was obediently silent and he sighed again removing his armor and readying himself for the night to come.


	2. The Bride

2. The bride.  
  
Hector sat beside Arimedes. All the nerves that had melted away with a bath and rest were now back in full force. He was dressed in formal robes of black inlaid with gold, his hair was being mostly submissive and he wore golden bracelets on his wrists and a thick intricate golden chain around his neck with an obsidian setting. He looked the part of Crown prince but he felt like a backwards ten years old. All these people, every single one of them staring at him, asking questions...and she still hadn't show up. He had yet to see her and it was driving him wild. Where on earth was she? She should at least have had the courtesy of showing up once. He would have done the same even if it had killed him. Arimedes glanced over at him and smiled in sympathy.

"She will come." He said. Hector looked over at him and smiled back weakly.

"I doubt it." He replied as he went back to his meal. It was rather spectacular, almost as good as food in Troy, but then again he was a bit biased... Torches and lanterns were lit, dancers were everywhere and he was positive that his goblet had been empty a few minutes ago... needless to say it wasn't anymore.

"Andromache! You're alive!" Theseus said.

"Indeed brother, I am." A smoky, alluring voice replied. Hector looked up and his heart all but stopped. There she stood in all her radiant glory, closer scrutiny revealing that she was not skinny at all but merely particularly slender, eyes still full of that hostility but now he could fully see her face. Her features were exotic and a bit contradicting; full lips, prominent cheekbones, smooth, pale, golden skin and a stubborn pointed chin, with a strong jaw. Her cinnamon brown hair was half piled onto her head with exotic golden clips showing of the slender line of her long neck, her dark captivating eyes were lined with kohl and golden powder was sprinkled across her prominent cheekbones. Her gown was a deep dark crimson, with golden trim and a long train that showed off her tall, willowy form to it's advantage. A necklace of thin, golden, seashells encircled the base of her throat and long matching earrings dangled at her ear lobes.

"Well don't you look particularly lovely this evening?" Eetion said as she took her place between Hector and Euklides. "Even if you did take half the evening to arrive." She smiled sweetly at him.

"Father if I am to look my best for my future husband, you have to expect that it will take some time." She replied. Hector swallowed and glanced over at her and her eyes locked on his. She smelled of frankincense, heady, alluring and earthy and he breathed it in deeply. "Prince Hector what a disagreeable surprise." she said, her smile cold. He stared at her for a moment fighting down a smile. Finally one who had back bone, if she wanted to be surly then he could match it. He smiled back just as sweetly and nodded. If she thought that he was a spineless, brainless, push over then she had entirely another thing coming.

"Princess Andromache the stars darken with your very presence." He replied, pleased that his voice was steady and deep, and that his stomach was finally behaving and he could finally eat.

"I hope your journey was as unpleasant as possible." She said still maintaining her supposedly amiable expression as she served herself.

"I am so sorry to disappoint." He replied. She glanced over at him. "It was quite wonderful."

"Pity." She replied.

"Not at all, I quite enjoy sailing on a sunny day." He said. She gave him a glare the assigned him to Hades and then went back to her meal. He relaxed and managed to enjoy himself. She was beautiful which was nice, she wasn't a simpleton which was good, and she had spirit and that was even better.

"How is your wine?" she asked.

"Remarkable."

"Not poisoned?" she inquired.

"Not to my knowledge." He said.

"Hmmmm." Against his better judgment he glanced at his goblet suspicious for a moment and she smirked drinking some of hers. He rolled his eyes and continued with his meal. '_Wench_.' He thought. He stole another glance at her as she ate. Even though she seemed horrible he could sense that there was no evil or malice in her. She simply didn't like him, and to be honest he couldn't blame her. In just a few days he would take her away from everything and everyone that she had ever known. He felt slight guilt at the thought but pushed it away. It wasn't his fault that they were betrothed. He had no control over the fact that he had to take her away from her family, her life. It wasn't his fault, he drilled it into his head but the feeling still nagged. Eetion rose and the table fell silent. He smiled at Hector and Andromache and then raised his goblet.

"My friends, my guests, tonight we dine in honor of my soon to be son; Hector of Troy, and he marriage to my beloved daughter Andromache." A thunderous applause arose and Hector glanced at her. Her eyes were fixed on her plate, her back straight, her shoulders back, and her face blank. But then he looked down at her hands and felt a stab of pity for her. They were shaking violently as she worried them intertwining her fingers, knotting and unknotting them; she was terrified. Beneath all that pride and anger and bitterness was real fear, apprehension. "I know Prince Hector to be a good man, a just man; honorable, strong of heart and of mind. A man who respects the gods, and protects and loves what belongs to him. ecI rest easy knowing that she will be his. May all the Gods and Goddesses smile on your union with my daughter, may they grant you prosperity and love, fertility and peace, courage and happiness till the end of your days! To Hector and Andromache." He cried raising his glass in a salute.

"To Hector and Andromache." The guests replied in unison and together they drank to the toast. Hector smiled and nodded in gratitude and then minstrels began to play and dancers came out. He watched as she picked up her goblet and took a slow, long drink of wine as if to fortify herself. As she swallowed she closed her eyes, bit her lip and let out a shaky sigh seemingly to force back tears. In that moment he understood and felt humbled by her, for with all his courage and skill in battle he would never know the terror of leaving his entire life behind for a new unknown, unwanted one with someone he didn't know let alone trust, yet to whom he was forced to give fealty, obedience, respect, body and heart. He looked down at his plate and felt no joy from the lively music and dancing and laughter. She closed her eyes again and he saw a small tear start to fall down her cheek but her slander hand came up quickly to stop it.

"Andromache." He said turning to her. She looked at him wearily and suspiciously.

"Yes Prince Hector?" she replied.

"Do you wish to retire?" he asked.

"Yes." She said. He rose and began to take her arm.

"Don't touch me." She snapped, yanking it away from him before she rose as well. He sighed and stepped away, respecting her wishes. She started to walk away and he followed her to her chambers where she stopped and turned to face him. Although she was rather tall, he was a fair head above her and she was forced to look up in order to meet his eyes. "What do you want?" she asked in annoyance

"I wish to speak with you." He replied

"What on earth do we have to speak of?"

"Very many things, our marriage being one of them."

"I do not want to speak of it." She said turning to open the door. A rare flare of anger born of frustration and nerves had him pushing it closed and she snatched her hand back before it was crushed by the slamming door.

"I'm not giving you a choice." He said. She grabbed the handle and attempted to open it again anyway but his hand came down again and stayed there keeping it effectively shut as she struggled mightily. Finally she accepted defeat, took a deep breath, let it out and waited giving him her back. "I know that you dislike me-" He started.

"Despise is more to my liking." She cut in and he rolled his eyes briefly considering how slender her neck was and how easy it would be to break it.

"No matter. I can't help that, you will feel what you will but I want you to know that this marriage it is not of my doing. And even though I do not particularly want it, I will not let it affect my feelings or actions toward you. I will try to be a good husband. I will try to be considerate and caring toward you and your feelings." Her head turned and he knew that she was listening. "This is difficult for you and I understand that."

"You will never understand it." She whispered shakily and he sighed knowing that she was right.

"Perhaps not," he replied, his voice gentling, "but either way I will love you Andromache."

"Love out of duty is cold, I do not want it." She replied.

"I offer you love because you deserve it, not because it is expected."

"You don't know what I deserve." She said turning around enough to look at him.

"I feel that I will. I don't ask the same of you, it is too much. But I will hope that you will at least try." She stared at him for a moment, her eyes unreadable before turning back around.

"I'm tired, I wish to go to bed." She said. Sighing he lifted his hand from the door and allowed her to open it and escape.


	3. Farewell to Thebes

3. Farewell to Thebes.  
  
Hector watched as the ship was loaded, noting everything. Tutors had always told him that he had the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a fox. Supplies, chests, crates and barrels; food and water and wine for the two week voyage back to Troy, back home. Coffers full of dresses and robes and trinkets of Andromache were loaded on next. He hadn't seen her for the morning; but then again, he wasn't really surprised at it. This was her last day at home, with her family. He didn't expect to see her until the moment they embarked on their voyage. The days after the Banquet had been strained and tiresome. He felt responsible for her unhappiness whether it was actually his fault or not and she was wrapped in her grief and fear.

_'Stop being ridiculous. How could it possibly be your fault?' _

_'Does it matter? Either way she will be forced to leave her home because she is marrying me.' _

_'You didn't choose her, your father did. And her father allowed it. You are a servant to your title as much as she is.' _

_'Yes but she is leaving her life behind, I am not.' _

_'Well in a way you are. You'll have your husbandry duties.' _

_'Yes as well as the hundreds of other cursed ones I already have.' _

_'Stop that!' _

"Prince Hector." The captain said coming up to him.

"Yes?"

"We are ready to leave. Shall I send word for the Princess?" Just then Hector saw her, coming with her family and no doubt one of her ladies in waiting. She wore a dress of pale blue with a jeweled belt below her breast and her hair was loose.

"She's already here. Prepare to set sail." Hector ordered. He watched as her father hugged and kissed her goodbye and his heart twinged with compassion. "Eliod." he added stopping him.

"Yes my lord?"

"Go slowly. Give her enough time to say good bye."

"Yes my lord." Eliod replied walking away to carry out his orders. Hector walked up to her as she hugged Arimedes tightly, her face buried in his chest. He nodded to him and Hector smiled back a little before he laid his cheek on his sister's head rubbing her back lovingly. It hurt his heart to let her go but he knew that he had no choice. She seemed so tiny and vulnerable now, so lost and terrified, she seemed more his little sister now than ever before.

"Be strong Andromache, it will be all right." He whispered to her.

"It will never be all right." She replied to him.

"Shh... That isn't true and you know it. He's a good man, he will love you."

"I don't want his love. I want to stay with you." She said looking up to him imploringly. "Let me stay. Please let me stay." She begged. He smiled sadly and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead.

"You know that I cannot." He whispered against her brow and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. He gave her one last squeeze and then released her.

"Prince Hector." Eetion said smiling.

"King Eetion, Queen," he said nodding to Ariana. "It is almost time to leave." She smiled back sadly. She understood that he didn't want to cause Andromache any pain. Ariana came up to Andromache and drew her close.

"My darling." She whispered as Andromache clung to her seeking comfort.

"Mother I don't want to go." She said and Ariana pulled away cupping her face in her hands.

"You must. I felt the same way when your father came for me. I cried for months, before I allowed myself to see him for who he was. Prince Hector is a good man Droma. You need not fear him."

"I'm not afraid."

"Yes you are. So was I. But look at how well it turned out for me." Andromache closed her eyes and cried and Ariana drew her head down to her breast. "Come my darling, my Droma, don't cry, do not cry." She crooned stroking her daughter's hair. Hector glanced over at the ship and saw that it was time.

"My lady, it is time to go. I'm sorry I gave you all the time I could." He said to Ariana. She nodded and raised her daughter's head.

"It's fine Prince Hector. Droma." She said to her daughter who stared at her pleadingly.

"No, I won't go." She begged shaking her head adamantly, her face wet with tears.

"You have to my dove." She kissed her cheeks tenderly and held her close one last time. "Be strong my dove, be strong. It will be all right, Droma." She released her and brushed her hair back from her face, not fighting her tears. "Go now. Go." Hector took Andromache's arm gently and led her to the ship, all the while with her looking back at her family.

"Don't look back." He said to her and she looked up at him. "It only makes it harder." She bit her lip and nodded, momentarily docile in her grief. They boarded and the ship weighed anchor, taking off. Hector sat her down on the deck and walked off not knowing what to say to her or do with her. He felt terrible for taking her away and wished only for a moment that he could have left her there and still have married her somehow. Suddenly a cry sounded, followed by a splash and he spun around.

"My lord the Princess!!" Eliod shouted pointing to the starboard side of the ship. Hector ran over his eyes wide with terror and shock at what he saw. Andromache had leapt over board and was trying to swim back to shore, back to Thebes.

"By the Gods, she wants to die." A sailor shouted. Hector dove in, and swimming with all his might tried to catch up.

"My lord!" Eliod cried in alarm.

"Andromache!" he shouted, but she kept swimming. "Andromache come back!" She was an excellent swimmer but he was stronger, and better so he caught up quickly, dodging her kicking legs, trying to stop her. She fought back like a wild cat shoving at him, scratching with her nails, punching with her fists even as she sobbed.

"Let me go." She cried.

"Andromache-" he tried.

"Mother!" she screamed, dislodging herself and starting off again. He gripped her arms and yanked her back forcefully.

"It's too late!"

"Let me go back! Stop it!" she kicked him in the shin surprisingly hard and punched him in the face. Angry now, he grabbed her wrists roughly in one hand shaking her hard.

"You can't go back it's too late." He snapped. "Come on."

"No!" he started swimming back and she kicked him in the side trying to pull away but he held fast. They sank from her struggles and he fought to keep their heads above water. She still fought, not caring, and they fought each other for awhile before he lost his patience with her and snapped.

"STOP IT!!" he bellowed yanking her back hard, his hands bruising her, shaking her so hard her head snapped back. "Stop it you'll kill us both."

"Let me go." He trapped her against him and she cried out trying to break free. "Andromache it's over. It's too late, you'll die before you reach the docks." He said.

"Mother!" she called out, choking on the salt water. "Mother!"

"Andromache-" She shook her head shaking with tears her eyes wide with grief and desperation.

"Arimedes! Euklides! Father!"

"You can't go back. Come with me."

"No." she choked out, "Let me go, please let me go."

"If I let you go you'll die."

"Take me back." She begged, "Please take me back." He stared at her silently, treading water. She was shuddering with cold, he needed to get her back into the boat; she would make herself sick if she stayed here any longer. He glanced back and saw that Eliod had already brought the ship around to them and was getting ready to throw a rope over board for them.

"Will you get on the ship if I take you back?" he asked. She nodded, shuddering violently. "Fine. I'll take you back. Come on now." She allowed him to take her hand and they swam the short distance to the boat. Hector grabbed the rope wrapped it around his fist and banded his arm around her waist. The men on the boat pulled and heaved and they shot out of the water and landed on the deck safely. She fell to her knees coughing and sputtering and Hector leaned over, his hands on his knees, staring at her. Her hair hung in wet ropes about her torso and her dress was soaked and clung to her body and her eyes were on him, waiting. He glanced at the rowers who were staring at her without guile and a wave of possessiveness hit him like nothing before. "Get back to your rowing." He barked, exertion making his voice even rougher than usual. Eliod came over to him awaiting his orders. Hector looked at him and then looked back over at her as she rose shakily to her feet staring at him, waiting for the words of her salvation. "Mentain the course for Troy." He said.

"You lying sack of wine!" Andromache screamed. "You bastard, you said you'd take me back!" She launched herself at him; half blinded with tears and anger trying to punch and scratch any part of him that she could reach. He over powered her easily by simply grabbing her wrists and twisting her arms.

"Calm yourself down." He snapped as she fought for freedom.

"Take your hands off me!" she spat out. He simply flung her over his shoulder and took her below decks to his chambers. She kicked and screamed but to no avail, he was simply too strong for her. He took her to his bed and plopped her down. She landed hard, glaring up at him as she rubbed her wrists. "You promised me." She said, her eyes hot with accusation.

"I promised nothing." He replied before throwing her a towel. "Dry yourself." He said before getting one for himself, trying not to grind his teeth instead busying himself with the task of rooting up a dry gown for her. "When you're done put this on, and dry your hair-"

"I know what to do. I'm not an idiot." She snapped. He shook his head and closed his eyes praying (not for the first time in his life between her and Parris) for patience, before starting to dry himself off, turning his back on her before he did her bodily harm. "You lied." She repeated.

"Of course I lied." He snapped. "What else was I to do? You would have killed yourself if I didn't, with your stupidity and your damned fear and pride. Besides, I never gave you my word on it, if you recall." He tossed a plain white gown to her and it landed beside her. She flipped a section of hair over her shoulder and took it up, twisting it in her hands.

"Go, I need my privacy." He stared at her for a moment, her chin raised in defiance her eyes flashing, even soaking wet she maintained her dignity. He wanted to throttle her, truly throttle her, the way he would love to do to Parris one of these days. He had a brief mental picture of him doing just that, with her body flopping about like a fish and had a moment of grim, if imaginary satisfaction.

"You have five minutes. I'm not about to get sick because of your momentary lapse of sanity." He replied before stalking back up the stairs.

"I hate you." She whispered fiercely. He paused and turned back to look at her and was a bit disheartened to see tears in her eyes.

"You are intitled. Five minutes." He replied before leaving her alone.


	4. First night

4. First night.  
  
The sun was almost done setting, it was getting dark. He was dry now. Dry but still annoyed. Not even Parris annoyed him this much. It was unnatural for a woman to be so damned stubborn, such a pain to be with. He wanted to wring her skinny little neck. _'Slender not skinny'_ he reminded himself but he didn't note it. His hair had been loosened from it's customary golden clips so that it could dry thoroughly. He rolled his shoulders and sighed trying to relax and calm himself but it wasn't working. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Eliod standing beside him. He knew him well, had known him since he had taken up the role of Crowned Prince and, as a result, was sailing every which way at a moments notice. Eliod was the ships captain more times than not and Hector had come to trust not only his judgment but him as well.

"All is well old friend?" Hector asked.

"Aye my Prince, the wind is strong."

"Good."

"The Princess is well?" he asked. Hector snorted and shook his head, was the princess well indeed. He glanced behind him at her. She was sitting on the deck her legs drawn up to her chest, her arms around her knees, looking out at the water. She had been there for hours now, her face sad and pensive. Her hair was loose and free, blowing back from her face, being dried by the wind. She wore the white chiton that he had thrown at her but no jewelry or makeup. She looked beautiful, pure, and even a bit innocent but he was too put out to notice that now.

"She is well enough." He replied darkly.

"And you?" Hector just laughed sarcastically.

"Going mad." He said running a hand through his hair. Eliod nodded and smiled.

"Then all is as it should be." Hector looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is that so?"

"It is my lord." Eliod said grinning.

"Don't call me that, no one is here to think oddly of it."

"As you wish." Eliod said. "May I speak freely my lord?"

"You know that you need never ask." Hector replied smiling weakly

"Being married is a delicate balance. She is hurting and alone, you do not understand her, and you have little patience."

"I am patient!"

"Not with her Hector. You have patience with horses, and Parris to a certain degree, you have patience with others." Hector sighed and shook his head glancing back at her. Her chin was now resting on her knees but her position hadn't changed at all. Her mouth was sad and silent but his blood pressure rose at how much aggravation she could arouse with that cursed tongue of hers.

"She doesn't exactly inspire patience and understanding." He said.

"Not on the surface, no. She is all alone. Everything she has is yours now, even herself. You have control over every aspect of her life; you can do with her as you will. She has nothing; no one and you expect her to be obedient and polite? She is proud and to go from having anything to nothing is a big step to take with help, save by one's self."

"I have tried to be kind to her."

"Perhaps you have, but you haven't exactly inspired confidence in her have you?"

"Oh, by the Gods, not you too." Hector groaned.

"No matter how you wish to look at it you lied. First impressions are lasting. Put yourself in her shoes for a moment if you will. You have been taken from your family, and are surrounded by strangers. The man who holds your life in his hands, you happiness, everything, has lied to you. You are perfectly alone with no one to share you feelings with but yourself. How would you behave?"

Hector sighed and rubbed his face.

"If you look at her carefully enough you will see her, it's not difficult." Hector looked at him and nodded.

"You are right."

"I'm always right. Have you fed her?" Hector shot up straight at that his eyes wide.

"She hasn't eaten?" he demanded looking over at her. Her knees were now folded beneath her, her arms folded across her stomach.

"You haven't eaten either have you?" Eliod asked smirking

"What does that have to-" he stopped himself staring at him, already knowing the answer. "Right." He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "Right, I'll see you tomorrow Eliod." He walked over to her and waited for her to look up at him. She did, her eyes empty and then looked away again. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

"No." she whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because I wasn't hungry." She replied seemingly getting annoyed. _'Well that's a welcome change, let her get annoyed for once.'_

"Are you hungry now?" he asked. She looked over at him again.

"I seem to have lost my appetite." She replied. He nodded at that and decided that humor was that next course of action.

"I understand completely, I sometimes have that effect." He replied watching her face. She was fighting a smile, he could see it. She was putting up quite a fight too, and in the end she won, but he had still seen it. "Come and eat Andromache." He said.

"I told you that I am not hungry."

"Did I ask you if you were?"

"Yes."

"Well I don't care any more, come and eat." He said. She glared up at him and then looked back out at the water. He glanced over at Eliod who nodded and gave him an encouraging look, said a prayer and then looked back at her. That was when he saw the bruises on her wrists and arms. Immediately he dropped to his knees beside her and grabbed her hands in his. She looked down at him in shock trying to pull them away but he held firm. "I hurt you." He said. "I'm sorry for it."

"Spare me. You don't care, I know that you don't care." She replied looking at him, her voice and eyes bitter. "I'm nothing to you, just another possession, another trinket, only I can walk and talk and bare you children." He stared at her in silence, seeing that Eliod was right.

"That is not true." He said quietly.

"Yes it is."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you are a man. You may take a wife but she holds no meaning for you. You have no emotion for her, no feeling. She is a plaything for your amusement and when she holds no intrigue for you anymore you get mistresses and send her off to the country side to weave and live alone having given you her life's grace. You care for nothing but your own image. You disgust me."

"Don't presume to know me better than you do Andromache. I am a man, but you don't know me well enough to like me or be disgusted by me. You don't know what I've done; you don't know who I am."

"I know that you lie, that's enough for me." She replied and turned away. He sighed, knowing that she had won that round and shook his head. It was no use.

"I lied to save you, because I had no other choice. Would you rather I knocked you out and had you wake up with a swollen face and a pounding headache?"

"Yes." She replied.

"I'll remember it." He said. "I won't lie to you again. And that's a promise." She made no reaction to it just sat there silently looking out at the water. "Are you coming down to eat?" he asked.

"Do I have a choice?" she asked. He clenched and unclenched his fists, took a deep breath and counted to ten.

"No. Come, you can starve yourself when we get to Troy, but not on my watch." He said rising to his feet. She turned and stood, stone faced and walked past him to their cabin. He followed her sitting a bit away form her and offered her fruit, wine and meat. She stared at him silently and he stared right back waiting. Finally she looked down at the platter and took some dates and cherries. He smirked patting himself on the back mentally. When she was finished she turned her back to him and went to sleep. He glared at her back, wanting to inflict bodily harm. He couldn't eat, not now. He threw down the bunch of grapes that he had in his hand and blew out the candles before going to bed, the air thick with animosity and tension.

A/N; _Peplos _ and _Chitons_ are the gowns that the women wore. A _Peplos_ is more like what Helen wore, and _fibulae_ are the clips that held them up. A _Himation_ is a cape that men wore over their _chitons_. Just so that you knew what the hell I was talking about.


	5. To err mortal, to forgive divine

5. To err mortal to forgive divine.  
  
The sun was setting, casting beautiful colours across the sky. Apollo was going back to his palace, sans a resentful, annoying, betrothed. _'Lucky bastard.'_ Hector thought. His hair was unbound by clips again, blowing across his neck and face, simply from laziness and nonchalance on his part, and he wore a short, loose, black, chiton with golden embroidery. Yesterday she wouldn't speak to him or even look at him. He had wanted to break her neck. He was still annoyed, oddly enough about her jumping overboard. Normally he calmed easily, and it had been almost a week ago to the day but she had seriously riled him up. He had never, ever shaken a woman like that. Granted he had never lost his temper with one before, but still. She had been unreasonable, yes, but he was at least twice her size. He couldn't believe that he was still thinking about it. In retrospect, it had been her fault sort of. What in the name of Hades was she doing jumping off the side of the ship!

_'Trying to get away from you.' _

_'What do you want?' _

_'You shouldn't have shaken her so hard.' _

_'She was being so difficult!' _

_'She is allowed to be difficult she's alone in this world now.' _

_'If she would stop trying to kill me, I wouldn't have to be so harsh with her.' _

_'She is weaker than you! Her wrist is half the size of yours!' _

_'Shut up.' _

_'And you broke your word.' _

_'What word? I made no promise!' _

_'You said 'I'll take you back.' 'Will' is a promise and you know it.' _

_'I had no choice.' _

_'You were wrong Hector.' _

_'She would have died if I didn't.' _

_'You lied. Loopholes and double standards mean nothing here. You lied.' _

_'Leave me alone. I'm going crazy already as it is without you.' _

_'She's hurting. You need to make her feel safe.' _

_'How?' _

_'Do I have to do everything for you?' _

Hector growled underneath his breath and shook his head bracing his body with his hands on the railing. How the hell did he make her feel safe, she was resolved to drive him mad. It had been a week since they had set sail and still she was reticent and hardheaded. They didn't so much talk as spar and argue, and the fact that he had to share chambers with her wasn't helping matters at all.

"My lord, Hector." He heard Eliod say and he turned to see him standing with Andromache. Even though she had pinned back part of her hair the wind was blowing the rest of it across her body and face, the setting sun casting a golden glow about her. She was wearing a long, flowing peplos in mixed colours of red and brown and dark taupe with golden fibulae. For once she didn't seem angry with him but the fire was still in her eyes, the passion that drove her. He hadn't really taken time to notice the positively golden hue of her skin, and with the slight tan that the sun had given her she looked like Demeter.

_'She is rather beautiful isn't she?' _

_'Yes well so are sirens and look at what happens with them.' _

_'Be quiet.' _

_'Likewise.' _

Hector nodded to him and fixed his eyes on her waiting for her to speak. She looked down, probably the first sign of nervousness that he had seen since they had left Thebes and then took a couple steps toward him.

"Prince Hector." She said before seemingly gathering her courage and raising her head to look him in the eyes.

"Princess Andromache." He replied.

"Um... supper is ready." She muttered and he raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked, thoroughly shocked.

"Dinner. Will you dine with me?" she replied, more loudly this time. He just stared at her. She wasn't attacking him, or being sarcastic...rather she was attempting to be pleasant, genuinely pleasant. It was an odd yet welcome change and it had his stomach contracting and his hands itching for his hair again for the first time since he had met her.

"Of course Princess." He replied. She smiled at him then, a small smile but a real one, and his heart all but stopped. She really was a goddess was all that he could think as she walked back down below decks. He followed her slowly, somehow still on edge waiting for a knife in the throat, or a bucket of pigs blood to fall on his head, or something, some prank to make him relax but nothing came; only the scent of sandalwood incense and the soft glow of candles, and Andromache waiting for him to sit down with her. He complied, sitting across from her and she began to serve them both.

"Would you think me rude if I asked you who you were?" he asked watching her long slender hands distribute fruit and meat and cheese. She smiled again, a bit sheepishly and bit her lip as she poured some wine for him.

"No." she replied. He nodded silently as she served herself and drank some wine as if to reassure herself.

"Who are you and where is the woman I am betrothed to?" he asked. She grinned a bit and then looked up at him.

"I've been behaving very badly haven't I?" she said.

"We both have." He replied. She shrugged and drank some more wine. _So, she does have a nervous habit then._ He thought to himself.

"I am sorry for hitting you." She whispered. He smiled at that.

"No you're not." He replied. She winced and tried not to smile but ended up laughing instead. It was a glorious sound that warmed and ....stirred his heart, and made her seem more of flesh and blood than of ice and stone.

"You're right I'm not. Is it wicked of me?"

"No it's not at all, it's expected rather. You were angry, I understand that."

"You didn't deserve my anger." She said.

"All husbands deserve their wife's anger at some point in time." He said. She chuckled at that and nodded.

"Perhaps." She replied biting her lip. _Another one..._ he noted. His eyes dropped down to her wrists and saw the faint discolouration there. She followed his eyes and saw what had caught his attention. "They didn't even hurt much." She said trying to put his mind at ease, but he saw the other marks on her arms and waves of self disgust flooded his throat.

"I'm sorry."

"I know that you are." She replied.

"I had no right to do that." he said roughly. She smiled a bit sadly.

"You saved me from myself." She replied turning her hands to take his in hers. "It's alright."

"No," he said firmly. "it's not. It won't happen again."

"I feel that it will." She said.

"You think that I am like that? Do you think that I would ever deliberately harm you in anyway?" he asked, strangely hurt that she would think that.

"No." she replied shaking her head. "I don't believe that you are a violent man by nature, but I can be a trial whenever I am in one of my moods." He raised his eyebrows at that and nodded.

"You noticed that eh?" he asked. She smiled and nodded pulling her hands from his.

"Arimedes always told me that I was enough to drive a man to drink." She said. He laughed at that and nodded as he started to eat.

"Indeed."

"I...I wanted you to know that I would try." She said. His eyes flew up to hers his hands pausing. "I promise nothing but... I will try, as you asked me to, because it's only fair. After all, you are willing to, and you're a good man I think, and... you deserve to be loved." He smiled gently and nodded.

"Thank you." He replied.

"You can start by calling me Hector." She smiled and nodded.

"Of course my lord." She said, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

"Wench." He muttered and she laughed. They spent the rest of the dinner in comfortable and contented silence. The ice was not only broken, but melted and it wasn't until he had gone to bed that he noticed that with her, he hadn't been nervous at all, not really.


	6. Feeling safe

6. Feeling safe.  
  
He awoke to the sound of strangled screams. As if someone were choking, a woman. Andromache... He felt a sick kind of panic in his chest as he reached below his pillow for the dagger that he always had there followed by another wave of possessiveness, she was his to protect, to love, to have. If anyone was trying to hurt her he would gut them like a fish. He stayed still, looking over to her and saw that no one was there but him. She was thrashing around, writhing, grabbing the sheets gasping and choking trying to scream but failing, her eyes wide open but glazed. She was still dreaming, still asleep trapped in some terrible nightmare. He scrambled over to her dropping the knife as her hand shot out trying to grab onto something. He grabbed it in his and found it as cold as ice.

"Andromache." He said fighting her flailing limbs as best he could. She choked again, her hand flying to her throat as she bucked and moaned. A strangled cry sounded from her throat and he gripped her arms, pulling her up to him. "Andromache wake up." He said. She didn't respond to him and he shook her slightly. "Wake up, love wake up." His hand stroked her face and she blinked hard before screaming and taking in gulps of air. Her eyes held terror and fear, her face was wet with sweat and tears.

"Hector?" she whispered.

"Yes." He replied and she flung herself against him her arms twining around his neck, clinging to him. He held her close, stroking her back as she trembled. "You were dreaming, it was just a dream." He murmured against her hair. She was freezing, her hands and form were cold and clammy but she was drenched with sweat.

"Oh gods." She whimpered, gasping.

"Shhhhh, Andromache, it's all right now." He felt her nod against him before she buried her face in his neck.

"I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe. There was so much water and I couldn't.... I swam and swam... but there was too much water..." she whispered against his skin. He stroked her hair gently, overcome by a wave of tenderness for her. He wanted to hold her while she slept, keep her safe forever.

"It's ok now, you're safe." He whispered pressing kisses against her hair and neck.

"I couldn't call out, I tried...I....I couldn't scream... I wanted to... I wanted to call for you but... you weren't there and I couldn't scream it was as if my very voice was gone and it was so cold..." he squeezed her tighter and brushed his lips against her temple.

"I'm here now, you're safe now." She pulled away and stared into his eyes. The fear and vulnerability he saw there almost broke his heart. He cupped her face in his hands his thumbs stroking away the tears.

"I know... I know." She whispered.

"It was just a dream. A stupid dream." She smiled and nodded.

"Very stupid." She replied. He kissed her brow and then pulled her close again not understanding why he needed to have her close to him but unable to let her go.

"Shhhh, breathe now, you're safe, I have you." She held on even more tightly squeezing her eyes shut.

"Don't let go." She whispered brokenly, "Please don't ever let go."

"I won't love, I won't. I promise." She nodded and sighed. Eventually her trembling stopped, the warmth in her body returned, and she pulled away. "Are you all right now?" he asked.

"Yes, yes I'm fine now."

"Do you want to go up for some air?" he asked. She smiled shakily and nodded. He helped her to her feet and led her up to the deck. The wind was cooler up there and she breathed in deeply calming even more. He led her to the railing watching her closely. "Better?" he asked and she nodded. "Do you have nightmares often?"

"No. Not really, only when I sail. I have a fear of drowning." She said. He frowned.

"But you are an excellent swimmer." He replied.

"That doesn't mean anything." She said. "Poseidon could rouse waves that would kill Hercules himself if he saw fit."

"Have you angered Poseidon?" he asked.

"No, I don't think so." She replied.

"Then you are fine." She smiled and shrugged.

"I'm being silly, I know. I tell myself that all the time but... the dreams come anyway." She said meekly. He looked over at her and felt his heart flip over.

"I have a fear of crowds." He said sheepishly.

"But you are Crown Prince." She said confused. "I know." He replied sheepishly. "I always have to make these grand speeches, and appearances... I hate it." She laughed her eyes wide. "People stare at me...I get terribly nervous and I want to fiddle with things... my robes, my hair anything."

"You don't have enough assurance in yourself." She said.

"No. No I don't. I always fear that that I will commit some folly... some grave mistake that will kill those I love." He said his face grave.

"Have you ever done that?" she asked.

"No...no not yet." He replied with a laugh. "But I still fear it."

"Good. It is that fear that will keep you from being a bad king. You will be mindful of your actions and decisions, how they affect those who matter. Fear is good." She said. He looked over at her, still a bit troubled but starting to believe, her eyes could make him believe anything. Then she reached out and pressed her soft palm to his cheek, gently caressing his face. "You are a strong man with a pure heart. You will be a good King, Hector."

"Maybe." He said softly.

"You will be; I know it."

"I wish that I knew it." He replied.

"You will with time, you will see. People turn to you because they know your abilities and you do not fail them. To err is human Hector. Perhaps you will make mistakes, but learning from them and doing better the next time around... that is the true test." He stared at her silently wanted to pull her into his arms.

"I thought I was supposed to be easing you mind." He muttered. She smiled at that and his heart catapulted up into his throat.

"Yes well, we can take turns can't we?" she replied. He laughed, feeling lighter. Somehow, knowing that she believed in him made everything seem possible. He marveled that how different their relationship was now. Before she would have tried to kill him in her sleep but now here she was reassuring him. It was remarkable how much she had changed and now it wasn't so hard to imagine a life with her. "You should smile more often." She whispered. He stared at her, not knowing what to say. Her cheeks flushed and she looked away, pulled her hand back, wrapping her arms around herself. He peered at her knowing that she was thinking about something, wondering if to tell him.

"What is it?"

"I want to say something but..."

"Tell me." He said. She looked up at him, seemingly through him and he waited patiently.

"I feared you before." She said after awhile. "I didn't want to show it... but I was terrified. I thought that you would beat me, break me. Make me a slave to you."

"I would never do that Andromache. Not to anyone, let alone you."

"Yes. I don't think that you will. I hate the idea of not having a will of my own. I need to know that... no matter what-" His hand came up to cup her cheek silencing her.

"Andromache, your mind is your own. It is what make you, you. Why would I want to change that?" She bit her lip, her wide eyes unsure still.

"You don't mind how I am?" she asked.

"No."

"Even when I'm being difficult?"

"I can assure you that nothing you could do would make me want you any different." He replied. She smiled again.

"Do you promise?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow.

"I want to say yes but I'm not sure. Then again you could be a little less thin..." he joked. She rolled her eyes. "I jest, don't hurt me." She laughed and nodded.

"Thank you for being honest. I don't like people who lie."

"I am a man of my word, no matter what you may think."

"I think that you are. Do you have any brothers or sisters?" she asked.

"One younger brother. Parris he's about seventeen, beautiful fool."

"You would speak so of your brother?"

"When it is true. He is a wonderful person, I love him dearly, I would die for him without thinking twice, but he doesn't think sometimes. He doesn't consider the consequences of his actions and then he runs to me so that I can fix them."

"Do you?"

"Yes." He said with a wry smile. She smiled.

"Why?"

"Because...it's Parris. When you met him you will understand. He's a fool, but an honest fool with a heart of gold. You can't help but love him." He shrugged and shook his head. "I can't explain it."

"You don't have to." She replied. He looked down at her and sighed.

"Once, when I was around his age, he was seven or six... and father had gotten a new horse as a gift from your father as a matter of fact...Anyway when we saw him we were awe struck, he was so big and sleek, and strong. He was the most magnificent thing we had ever seen. He still had to be trained though, he was still wild. I remember Parris just stared, his mouth was wide open, his eyes so big. Father told us not to try to ride him because he was still dangerous... Anyway that night, I was asleep and Parris came clambering through my window. He was dirty and scared and he had a scratch on his cheek. I woke up and immediately I thought that he had been beaten and I was concerned, I pulled him to me, he was crying. I said 'What happened?' he pulled away and he looked up at me and he said 'Do you love me brother? Would you save me from anyone, anything?' and he seemed to desolate that I, in my foolishness said 'I would protect you forever Parris, you're my brother.' After that he told me what he had done."

"The horse?" she asked laughing.

"Exactly. He had put Zeus out of his thoughts and had tried to ride father's horse. The horse had thrown him and had ran off. Father would have been furious."

"Did he find out?" she asked.

"No. But I spent the rest of the night and the first part of the morning looking for the damned beast." He replied with a short laugh shaking his head.

"You helped him."

"I said I would." He said. "I was so angry with him for that but he promised never to do it again, and he didn't. He has a good heart. If he promises not to do something, chances are he won't do it. He doesn't lie, not really. You may find his company more enjoyable than mine."

"Why?" she asked.

"He is more carefree that I. Less inclined to brood." She laughed and tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.

"I don't mind it over much." She said. "I rather enjoy your company when you aren't being a fool." He smirked and shook his head.

"Likewise. But um.... He's also a bit of a woman chaser. He loves women; bedding them, wooing them, courting them but never marrying them." She laughed.

"Has he ever taken someone you-"

"No. he would never do that. Ever. If he knows that I like a woman chances are that he would introduce us and try to get us together." He shook his head smiling and she felt herself start to fall in love with him.

"What are your parents like?" she asked.

"My father is a good king; he has the kindest biggest heart. He is a just man, strong when he needs to be. My mother is a quiet beautiful soul... people say that I am like her more...but I'm not sure... My cousin Breseis is a darling she's about Parris' age fifteen or sixteen...she has the freest, lightest spirit she loves to laugh and dance... she and Parris are inseparable."

"I think that I will like your family."

"Perhaps." He looked up at the sky noted the stars. "It's very late, do you want to try to sleep again?" he asked.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you for staying up with me."

"Not at all." he replied. He took her back down and they went back to sleep. She didn't have any more nightmares for the rest of the night.


	7. First slow slide

7. First slow slide.  
  
Hector couldn't remember being this comfortable in a long while. Especially on a boat. But his bed was soft and warm and fragrant and his body seemed molded to it, fitted. He felt contentment, a sweet, thick, heavy haze of it. He didn't want to get up, he didn't want to move. His arm was wrapped around what was probably a pillow which felt equally good so he pulled it closer pressing his face into the fragrant silk and breathing in deeply. Under his hand something was throbbing... no not throbbing, beating. An even, slow rhythm against his palm that was as much comforting as it was unnerving. Why was his pillow throbbing? Suddenly he realized he didn't have a pillow. He had given it to Andromache and it sure as Hades didn't smell anything like ... like... oh gods... frankincense. He opened his eyes slowly to see curly, cinnamon brown hair. That had been the 'silk' he was smelling. As his body awoke he realized that he wasn't lying on/ holding a pillow, but Andromache. His leg was draped across hers, one arm (that he could barely feel) was sticking out, her head lying on top of it as if it were a pillow, and his other arm was banded around her in a strangely possessive nature, like she belonged to him and no one else was going to touch her. Like every inch of her was his, which was silly because he didn't even have her heart let alone her body. And his hand, well it was a bit numb as well, but something unbelievably soft and warm was in it, and the rhythm...

_Great Zeus is that her?! _

_Yes it is... _

_How? _

_You'd better move your hand before she wakes up... _

_How did she get here? She sleeps on the other side of the cabin. _

_Well maybe she got cold. Or afraid, maybe she was testing what the rest of her life would be like. _

Her breast... his hand was on her breast, it was her heart that was thumping against his palm. He had to move quickly, glancing up he saw... was that sunlight? Normally he was up with the sun no matter what time he had gone to bed... what time was it? He'd overslept... well not really he didn't really have anywhere to go, but still. Slowly, very slowly he moved his hand out from under her feeling the blood rushing back to it making it sting like ten demons. Then he removed his leg, and the arm below her head. Suddenly she moaned and snuggled back against him with a sigh. He froze, afraid to breathe, afraid to blink _Damn, damn, damn, damn_ and waited until she quieted before moving away completely and rising to his feet. She rolled over, wrapped up in blankets, her hair fanning out over their 'bed' and her shoulders, her arms folded beneath her head. She looked like an angel, innocent, pure full of light and hope and his heart cracked spilling more tenderness and need and yes, love for this woman. He hadn't really made her a woman yet, she was still a maiden, but to him, in his eyes, she was a strong, intelligent, passionate woman, a goddess. Years down the line, in retrospect, he would recognize this moment as when he first fell in love with her; in the first hours of morning light, unaware of the world about her, her skin glowing like spun gold, her flesh warm from slumber. He picked up a ¾ sleeved, black robe trimmed with gold, turned and climbed the stairs to the upper deck. The wind was chilly as he had suspected and as he slipped on his robe, he sighed feeling ridiculously happy. A shout rose up unbidden in his throat but he fought it down. What was wrong with him? Nothing had happened, she wasn't his wife, he hadn't claimed her as his own... but just knowing that she had lain beside him that night, that she trusted him that much, even if in actuality it was hardly anything to the world, to him it was more than everything; it was immortality, the universe and the deepest desires of his heart made attainable to him. He hadn't known her yet, but still he felt this peace within his bones. He looked out at the horizon and closed his eyes raising his face to the sun and the cool breeze. That was how she found him when she awoke about half an hour later. In that moment he was just Hector to her; a young, handsome, serious and completely lovable man who had for a moment shucked the burdens of his title. She walked up to him, wrapped in a blanket and he turned to face her with gentle eyes and a kind smile.

"Good morning." He said. She smiled back and stood beside him.

"Good morning." She replied.

"I woke up and you were next to me." He said. "How did that happen?" She had the grace to blush and look down.

"I'm sorry... did you mind at all?" she asked meekly.

"Not overly much." He replied. "I was a bit shocked... very shocked actually but it was fine... a bit pleasant actually." He teased and her cheekbones flushed even redder.

"I um... I was just trying it out...we were getting along so well and-" she looked up at him, saw his amused expression and looked back down at her hands. "Wh... when we get to Troy, will...will I sleep in your bed?" she asked.

"No, no we have chambers for maidens." He replied. "After we get married; then you will share my rooms." He replied He turned back to the sea breathing in deeply and she studied him.

"You like sailing don't you?" she asked, her face cooling much to her delight.

"Yes I do. It's relaxing, I feel freer somehow." He replied then turned to face her. "Am I that obvious?" he asked. She smiled again and reached out her fingers running down the center of his brow.

"You have a line there mostly..." she said softly. "As if you are constantly in the midst of a struggle or a puzzle or a problem. It makes you look a bit menacing, older. But it's gone now, now you look... young... happy." Her hand stroked over his face curving to hold his cheek gently in her soft palm. He smiled.

"I am happy. Happier than I ever thought I would be." He replied.

"And I as well." She replied. He reached out and traced her cheekbone tenderly with the backs of his fingers before reaching up to cradle the hand that was against his cheek. He moved it away caringly before bending his head and closing his eyes to drop a soft kiss in the center of her palm. A shock of sensation moved down her arm from the point of contact and as he lowered her hand, his eyes opening and fixing themselves on hers she felt her stomach flip over and tie itself into knots, vicious knots. She felt warm all over and she was sure that her face was bright red. His eyes were swimming with emotion, who could have known that he could be so gentle, last night and just then. His lips were so smooth and soft, warm; she wouldn't have believed it unless she had felt it against her palm so perfectly.

"Andromache." He whispered.

"Yes Hector?" she replied just as softly. She felt as if his eyes were drugging her, pulling her closer, pulling her in.

"Do I look that old?" he asked, ebony orbs twinkling. She smiled warmly.

"Yes." She replied and he raised an eyebrow. "Very old. But you're surprisingly spry for your age."

"You're amusing." He replied flatly and she laughed loudly.

"No but really, you don't, I think I picked a bad word to describe you."

"Damned right you did." He grumbled good-naturedly and she chuckled again.

"You look scary, more weathered, more hardened than someone your age would be expected to be." He nodded in understanding. "But when you smile, or now you look amicable, less...threatening, less cold."

"Do you trust me?" he asked. She blinked her brain snapping to attention and her mouth opened to say 'Yes, yes I trust you!' but something made her hold back.

"Not completely." She replied. "I trust you with my life."

"But not your heart?" he asked. She shook her head, her eyes begging him to understand and not be mad.

"Be patient with me Hector." She requested softly. He nodded and smiled before holding her head in his hands stroking her hair, then he leaned down and kissed her brow lovingly. She smiled at the easy gesture, it made her feel cherished.

"Breakfast?" He asked and she smiled and nodded. She could love this man, she knew, with his hard, calloused yet infinitely tender hands, his warm eyes and his gentle heart. He slipped an easy arm about her shoulders and led her down to their cabin.


	8. Flash of gold

8. Flash of gold.  
  
Hector stood at the helm of the ship his eyes bright with joy staring out into the distance. He was dressed in his formal wear, his hair once again bound by the round golden clips. Today was the day, by tonight he would be in his bed, asleep, surrounded by his own things, and his family. For him, homesickness didn't kick in until he was about two hours away from Troy; either going or coming. If it was going, it lasted for about one hour before he had to see about things on the ship or read up on what treaty to sign where, and figure out exactly what the hell he was doing, if it was coming it lasted until he got his foot on Trojan soil. He couldn't believe it but he had missed his brother terribly. Even though all he did was bed women and cause trouble, he had his shining moments when Hector was glad to have him as a brother. Heels sounded and he turned to see Andromache standing a few feet away from him, wringing her hands and biting her lip her eyes wide with apprehension. She was dressed in a formal, silk, violet chiton that scooped low in the front, trimmed and embroidered with gold. She wore her golden seashell necklace, her hair was half up with matching golden seashell hair pins and clips and at her ears were long, matching, seashell earrings. Gold dust was sprinkled across her cheekbones and breastbone and eyelids, and her eyes were lined with kohl. She looked every bit a Princess, she took his breathe away. She looked up at him and smiled shakily, and he gestured for her to come to him. When she was close enough, he took her arm and drew her to his side.

"Do I look alright?" she whispered nervously.

"You made me stop breathing for a minute there." He replied.

"Really?" She asked looking up at him with hopeful eyes. He smiled at her and kissed her brow.

"You are absolutely stunning." He said and she beamed.

"Well you look quite handsome Prince Hector." She said cheekily. He glared playfully and quirked an eyebrow in response.

"Thank you Princess now be quiet. I want you to see something." He said stepping behind her as she laughed and placing his hands on her shoulders. She nodded and he smiled looking back out at the ocean. "Keep your eyes on the horizon, and you'll see it."

"What?" she asked.

"A flash of gold, the first sign of home." He replied.

"Home..." she muttered biting her lip again, her breath hitching.

"Don't be nervous." He said gently. She looked up at him and then down at her hands.

"I...I'm not n...nervous." She replied softly. He raised and eyebrow and looked down at her.

"Oh no?" he asked. She shook her head again, still knotting and unknotting her fingers frantically.

"I'm not. What would I have to be nervous about?" she asked. He chuckled and turned her to face him unlacing her hands and holding them in his. And her eyes fixed themselves on his.

"Typically, a great many things, but not in this instance. They'll love you Andromache, I know they will."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Because I've know you for two weeks and already I'm well on my way." He replied. Her eyes widened even more if possible and then filled with tears.

"Don't, don't start crying now. You asked and I told you, now turn around and stare at the horizon, I won't tell you again." He turned her back around his hands now on her upper arms and stared out with her. It was then that they saw it; a brilliant, golden flash of light as if from Apollo himself and she gasped. Five minutes later a form made of gold gleamed in the distance on white shores set against a perfect blue sky. "There it is." He whispered. "There's Troy."

"It's beautiful." She whispered. He took her hand in his guiding her hand to point out various things.

"Do you see that white building right there? Beside the golden statue?"

"Yes." she whispered.

"That's the temple of Apollo." he stated.

"He's the patron god of our city." He dropped their joint hands and she craned her neck to look up at him with a smile. "You'll be happy here, I swear it."

"I know I will be." She replied. It hadn't happened before then but his eyes flicked down to her mouth just for a second. He hadn't really noticed before how full and soft it looked. He looked into her eyes, noting how truly remarkable they were, how warm and beautiful. He hadn't noticed that before either. He just wanted one taste of her mouth, just one. His head began to lower, quite without his own consent. She seemed to realize what was happening because her eyes widened for a moment and then glanced down at his mouth before fluttering closed.

"My lord Hec- oh." Eliod stopped talking and walking, and tried to back pedal looking quite a bit embarrassed but the damage had already been done. Hector jerked back, Andromache's head snapped back in front and they stepped away from each other. Hector fought down the urge to grind his teeth and turned to face Eliod.

"What is it Eliod?" he asked, trying for politeness.

"Um, well never mind I'm sorry to have disturbed you." He said walking away. Hector rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. _It doesn't matter now! You already messed up a perfect moment! _

_It was probably too soon any way. _

_I don't need you in my head right now go away! _

_Ooooh, touchy. Aren't we a ray of sunshine this morning? _

_I will stab you with my finger if you don't- _

_Alright, alright I'm going. _

She didn't speak for the next fifteen minutes by which time they had already arrived. They disembarked, and was met by a welcoming party that consisted of... one man.

"Prince Hector." He said approaching with a wide smile.

"Welcome home." He seemed about Hector's age, with bright green eyes and long, neutral brown, hair a little less curly than Hectors and just as unruly. It too was bound by the round golden clips, until it ended just at his shoulders. He had a slight beard, broad shoulders and was about Hector's height. He was actually quite handsome with his sharp features and bronzed skin. But to her, Hector was the epitome of handsomeness, all but a god. He smiled and embraced Hector warmly, as a brother, muttering something in his ear to make him laugh.

"Thank you Alyion. This is Andromache my future bride, Andromache this is Alyion. He has been my friend since I was four."

"Greetings Princess," he said bowing low and she curtsied in return. "You had a pleasant journey I hope, despite the company?" he asked his eyes twinkling. Andromache blinked unsure whether or not to answer the way she was taught to or the way that she felt to. She was sure that he was trying to break the ice with humor but she couldn't be sure.

"Um...well I"

"He's just trying to be charming." Hector said taking her arm and leading her to a chariot. "And failing might I add." He added over his shoulder.

"I'm just making up for lost time." He said mounting his own chariot. "Very nice" he mouthed to Hector over her head and Hector rolled his eyes again. "Don't be fooled by him my lady, he may seem sedate and honorable but he has been just as much of a rascal as the rest of us; drinking and flirting, bedding-"

"How is father?" Hector asked suddenly and Alyion looked as if he almost swallowed his tongue trying not to laugh.

"The king is in good health," he replied. "Anxious to see his future daughter and his beloved son. Parris has of course been up to his typical exploits, Breseis is... lovely and vibrant as per usual. Everyone is at the palace waiting... well we sort of lost Parris and Breseis a few minutes before I left but I'm sure that they will show up eventually. Parris has been spreading rumors that you are fat and cold and witch like." Alyion said to Andromache. "However, I'm sure that everyone will be pleasantly surprised." She smiled at him.

"You are too kind my lord." She said.

"Please, call me Lord Alyion the handsome, purveyor of love and satisfaction for all women of Troy." He replied.

"I'm afraid I'll have to write that one down." She replied and he they laughed.

"Beautiful and witty. You'll have to keep an eye on her Hector." He said to his old friend.

"Actually I think I'll just keep both eyes on you." Hector replied smartly.

"A hit, a palpable hit!" Alyion cried and Andromache laughed.

"He's a bit odd, but father, in his old age, enjoys him." Hector said causing her to laugh again.

"You in your old age enjoy me as well." Alyion responded.

"No, I in my masochistic nature endure your abysmal foolishness in the face of years of friendship, and don't ask me how that happened."

"That hurts Hector." He replied feigning injury before breaking out into a brilliant smile. Hector laughed and shook his head. He had missed Alyion. He was one of the few people that he trusted completely. The man had more wit and humor and intelligence, honesty than anyone he knew and he was one of the few people who could make Hector laugh till his belly ached. He looked down at Andromache and saw that she had a peaceful smile on her face observing everything that she passed. She had leant against him half way to the city and by now they were almost at the gates. He saw her eyes go wide as plates when she saw the wall of Troy.

"It's gigantic." She said.

"Mmmm. It does seem a bit excessive doesn't it?" Alyion replied. "But it keeps the bad men out and it keeps our city safe. Pride of Troy, other than our Crown Prince over here."

"Hector?" she looked up at him and he felt his face flush. He hated it when he did that. Did he have to blush at every good comment made about him?

"Oh yes. He is the Protector of Troy, best damn military man of his time, best fighter, best everything. The people look to him as King already almost, they love him immensely. Everyone is waiting for him, for you, they have missed their Prince and they want to see their future Queen. The men in our army don't follow Hector because he's the Prince, they follow him because they respect him and love him, they see him as the mortal demi-god that he is."

"I'm not a demi-god." Hector grumbled.

"No but you might as well be." Alyion replied. "Isn't that right Heccy?" He cooed and the glare that Hector sent his way would have killed a lesser man. Alyion hadn't been exaggerating. As soon as they had cleared the gates she heard the cheering, saw the flower petals being thrown form balconies. The people were ecstatic, obviously delighted to see him after so long. Everywhere she looked she saw beaming if not quizzical faces. She smiled taking in the colourful tents and stalls, all the people. Troy was bigger then Thebes, much bigger. She felt Hector tense behind her and remembered his fear of crowds but when she looked up at him he just smiled back at her. Alyion was making suggestive glances at various beautiful women who called out his name, making her laugh to herself. They reached the steps up to the palace and an old man in gold embroidered, deep blue robes, (most likely King Priam) with kind, bright blue eyes came out to them followed by a smallish young man in a long, dark blue chiton trimmed with gold, with large dark brown eyes and short curly hair. He was rather handsome and she guessed that he was Parris noting his expression of restrained jubilance.

"Hector." The old man said reaching him first. He embraced him warmly, and kissed his cheeks.

"Father."

"Pleasant journey?" he inquired.  
  
"Yes indeed father, Poseidon was kind to us."

"Yes he was." Priam said looking over his shoulder at Andromache. "Come here my girl." He said beckoning her closer. She came up to him feeling for some strange reason warmth. How could she be afraid of a man with eyes like that? He smiled lovingly at her and she smiled back.

"Father this is Andromache." Hector said.

"The last time I saw you, you were around six, and you were covered in mud because you had been fighting with Euklides." She smiled at the memory. "When I asked you if you won you answered 'Of course I did!' as if it was a silly question. I hope that nothing has changed, although the years seem to have been much kinder to you than to me." She laughed, and he embraced her, kissing her cheeks as well. "Welcome child, welcome."

"Thank you my King." She replied. Finally Parris seemed to have reached his limit and he shot forward catching Hector in an enthusiastic hug.

"Parris." He muttered. Squeezing him back as tightly as he could.

"I missed you brother." Parris said.

"And I as well." Hector kissed his brother on the crown of his head and pulled away ruffling his curls.

"How have you been?" he asked smiling down at his little brother. It was obvious how much he loved him. Parris was rather small for a seventeen year old, but his face was so beautiful that one almost forgot about that. He shrugged and in that she saw a likeness in them. Hector shrugged exactly like that, with one shoulder and a slight grimace that spoke of indifference. That was all the answer that Hector needed, and he laughed.

"HECTOR!!" A tiny voice screamed. Andromache turned and Hector looked up to see a young girl, or rather a blur of white, gold and dark brown throw it/herself at him. He caught her/it easily with a laugh picking her up off the ground. Her arms were wound about his neck as she squeezed him tightly.

"Breseis," he replied.

"And how have you been dear cousin?" he asked. She looked up at him and beamed.

"I beat Parris." She replied.

"At what?" he asked.

"No silly I beat him." Hector raised his eyebrows and glanced at his little brother who was staring at Andromache.

"You beat him?" That caught Parris' attention and he glared at her.

"You did not!"

"I did to! And I'll do it again, right here in front of everyone." She replied.

"I'm not allowed to hit girls, although I'll never know why, not after meeting you." He shot back. Hector grinned and then turned to Andromache.

"Andromache this is my brother Parris," he said gesturing to his brother who smiled broadly and hugged her. "And this little spit fire is Breseis my cousin." Proffering the girl in his arms. Breseis smiled sweetly and waved and Andromache smiled back.

"You are very beautiful Andromache." Parris said a devious glint in his eyes. She merely raised and eyebrow.

"I've been warned about you Prince." She replied. He glanced at a rather smug Hector who was trying not to laugh.

"Good. Well then since we are rather stuck at being friends, I'll just give some pointers on dealing with Hector."

"Parris." Hector warned, but Parris merely smiled and took her arm, leading her a bit away. He was a softer version of his brother, a smoother version, which probably made him more attractive to many women. She could see him as the heart breaker he was said to be.

"Now he may not have told you," he murmured to her "but he has this rather remarkable fear of crowds."

"He did tell me actually." She said.

"Did he? Well that's interesting, Anyway he also has a fear of snakes." Parris continued

"He does?" Parris gave her a look that said 'Are you kidding me?' and she smiled.

"When he gets nervous he plays with his hair that's why it's messy all the time."

"Oh. But his hair is always messy."

"That's because he's always nervous or worried or frustrated and if not, then he's riding or sailing so it gets that way anyway."

"That's interesting."

"So basically, if he hasn't been outside, and his hair is scary looking, then either something is on his mind or he is nervous."

"Really?"

"Look at him either before, during or after a counsel meeting." Parris said grinning.  
  
"Oh Parris!" she said

"It looks like he's either trying or tried to rip his hair out. Very amusing." She laughed out loud at the picture that came to mind. "Sometimes, when someone really stupid is talking and he hears other agreeing he starts glancing at sharp objects. He keeps me awake, just looking at him, he's so amusing. I'm just telling you now because you may have to go to one of them and it's not pretty."

"Thank you." She said smiling at him.

"I wasn't just being funny back there, you really are very lovely. I never thought Hector would end up with someone like you." He said suddenly, his eyes and face so honest that all she could do was smile at him.

"Thank you Parris." She said. He nodded and shrugged. "So you don't find me 'fat, ugly, cold and witch like'?" she inquired and he had the grace to wince sheepishly.

"You heard that eh? Alyion told you I suppose?" she nodded in affirmation and he shrugged again. "I'm sorry about that especially since I was so spectacularly incorrect. I tend to do and say things without really thinking about it." He said "But that was probably the first thing about me that Hector mentioned." He smiled wryly and again she saw Hector in him.

"Actually he said that you were a wonderful person and that you were and 'beautiful fool' then when I inquired he said that sometimes you don't think."

"Ah, well that's good to know. But if you ever need anything, anything at all I charge you, if he's being difficult, if he's gone and you need company anything Breseis and I will be more than willing to help. Especially Breseis." He added as an afterthought.

"Thank you Parris." She said. Hector came up to them with raised eyebrows and Parris smiled up at his brother.

"Hector! How are you brother?" he asked. Hector stared at him suspiciously.

"I'll just get my bride settled in if you don't mind." He said. It wasn't a question, and his hands were on her arms but still she knew that he wasn't angry and if she wanted to stay then he would let her.

"Are you sure that you don't want to run away with me?" Parris joked, as Hector led her away and she laughed loudly.

"Yes I'm positive." She replied over her shoulder.


	9. Settling in

8. Settling in.  
  
Hector led Andromache down various hallways, and past what seemed to be hundreds of doors to her before stopping before one engraved with a young woman braiding her hair with flowers.

"This is where you'll be staying, along with Breseis." He said. She nodded slowly, he eyes unsure and she looked back down the hallway.

"Oh, well good." She said nervously.

"You have no idea where we are, do you?" he asked.

"No." she replied and he laughed. She looked up at him faintly alarmed. "It's so big, it's impossible not to get lost."

"You'll find your bearings soon enough Andromache." He said and raised one of her eyebrows to that.

"So a lifetime is considered soon for you?" she asked. He laughed again. "I'm serious Hector I have no idea where I am except that I think that we took a left some where... a couple odd hallways back... before a right, I think." He shook his head, still laughing.

"Parris and Breseis will help you when I cannot. It's actually rather easy."

"You've lived here all your life! And you are eight years older than me!" she cried. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Breseis is four years younger than you and she knows this palace better than I." he replied. "Which is saying something, so you have no excuses." He replied. She rolled her eyes now and grumbled to herself. "Your things have already been put in here, and um... how many maids do you need?" he suddenly asked.

"Two, at most. I can dress myself; I don't really need that much help." She replied.

"Good well you will be assigned two. There is a banquet in the Great Hall tonight for us."

"How will I get there?" she asked. He laughed again, noting that she made him do that a lot.

"I will come for you." He said opening the door. "It starts around the twenty- first hour so... at the twentieth be ready."

"Ok..."

"Give or take." He added and she raised an eyebrow. "Just to be safe."

"Right."

"Good well see you then." He said starting to walk away.

"Aren't you going to show me around?" she asked. He stopped and turned to face her.

"It's the Maidens Quarters Andromache. Men aren't allowed." He said. Her eyes widened.

"Not even you?" she asked.

"Not even the King." He replied. A huge smile split her face.

"So if I was mad with you, I could come here and you wouldn't be able to follow?" she asked. He smiled wryly.

"It would appear so." He replied.

"Brilliant." She said."I think that I'll like it in Troy." He rolled his eyes.

"I can just as easily tie you to the bed and order two soldiers not to let anyone but me in under pain of death." He replied. Her smiled melted away and her eyes widened.

"But you wouldn't do that would you?" she asked. He smiled and regarded her silently for a moment.

"Let's make a deal then. If you promise not to hide in the Maidens quarters, then I promise not to lock you in and tie you to the bed. Agreed?" he said. She regarded him for a moment, her jaw tilted upward, toward him as she stared at him out of the corner of her eye. She looked absolutely adorable to him but he kept his smile down and kept his expression solemn.

"Agreed, if you promise not to raise your hand to me." She replied. His eyes darkened making them terrifying and his face fell and hardened. The change from the gentle, amiable, humorous man she had come to know was so complete, that it shocked her.

"You think that I would do that?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. It was unbelievable how much that simple question hurt. She looked down at her feet. "Do you?" he asked, his tone rising. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes and opened her mouth to answer but nothing could come out. He didn't know how much that fear was engrained into her mind and heart.

"Hector..."

"Answer me." He said harshly and she jumped slightly.

"I... I can't help it." She whispered. "I can't help but ask." His jaw seemed to soften but his eyes were still that flat, chilling shade of black. "I'm sorry. I feel that you wouldn't but... I just... I have to ask because you could do it so easily. You could kill me within seconds with just your hands. I feel that I know your heart but what if you lose your temper with me-"

"Firstly; it takes a lot to make me lose my temper it's not an everyday occurrence, and secondly; I've already lost my temper with you, and I never hit you." He snapped.

"When?" she asked, obviously shocked and he felt his anger draining away.

"When you jumped overboard." He replied. "I was trying to bring you back and you were struggling, you kicked me and we sank under and I got very angry. I shook you hard, but I never hit you." He replied. "I have never hit a woman or a girl in my life and with Parris it's strictly discipline, never in anger."

"But he loves you."

"I make the beating fit the crime; he knows that he deserves it. I feel terrible afterwards but I still do it." He replied. She looked down at her feet again.

"I'm sorry that I said that." She said softly. He closed his eyes and shook himself mentally. _She's just afraid, even Breseis asks questions like that sometimes, and she has known you all her life. She couldn't help but ask. Can you blame her? You're yelling isn't exactly helping matters and you aren't exactly the most unassuming man in the world, and you are at the very least twice her size._

"It's alright Andromache." He said placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not angry with you it just... it hurts that you would think that of me. I'm a man, not a monster, and yes there is a difference. Try to see it in me." She looked up at him, still a bit fearful and he stroked her cheek gently before leaning down to place a soft kiss on the other. "Get settled in, rest. I'll come for you for dinner at the twentieth hour."

"Give or take." She muttered with a small smile and he smiled at her.

"Yes give or take." He replied before walking away.

Hector sat on his bed staring at his closet. He had a problem. He looked up at the sun, noted it's height and then ran his hand through his hair again. It looked terrible. The soft dark curls were everywhere, the poor golden clips trying to keep the locks in some form of order and failing with every pass of his hand. Why did they need a banquet, he would like to know. They knew who he was, and they would have a coming out ceremony for Andromache as his wife after the wedding. Where they going to forget what she looked like!? He rose to his feet and started to pace; another habit of his. He didn't want to go, but he had to. He wore only a thin, black, skirt tied at his hip. A knock on the door sounded and he flew over opening it to see his smirking brother. He hated banquets.

"You called?" he asked. Two servant girls passed by, glanced at Hector, turned bright red and then broke out into giggles. Hector started to resemble a tomato and then looked at Parris. His brother looked resplendent with his hair perfectly groomed, clothed in a long formal chiton of the darkest green silk. It was trimmed with golden embroidery, and hung nicely on his rangy form.

"I need your help." Hector said pulling him inside and shutting the door.

"What on earth happened to your head brother?!" Parris asked fairly alarmed.

"I have no idea what to wear." Hector continued ignoring the question.

"What are you talking about; you go abroad and dress yourself all the time." Parris said still glancing at his brother's head distractedly.

"Yes, but I have an outfit per day. There are no options, now I have options." Hector explained hastily and his brother looked at him as if he had grown a few heads. Parris shook his head and laughed.

"You are completely mad you know that?"

"Yes," Hector replied.

"Why do you care it's just a banquet, you go to banquets all the time."

"But Andromache wasn't here before."

"You aren't serious." Parris said staring at Hector dubiously. "Oh, Apollo you are." He groaned in disbelief.

"Parris!" Hector shouted exasperatedly, "Help me!"

"Not even the god's could help you Hector, ok now have you picked out at least one option?" he asked. Hector walked over to the closet and pulled out a long, formal, black chiton embroidered with gold and a matching himation. Parris regarded it seriously and then nodded. "That's good. Do you own anything that isn't black?"

"I have a navy blue set." Hector replied.

"Keep going."

"Oh gods, Parris, I don't know that's what you're here for!" Hector cried. Parris rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright, alright sit down and clam yourself. Have some wine." Hector flopped back ward onto his bed and sighed deeply. "You know for a future king you are rather hopeless."

"Yes well for a Prince, man _and _soldier you are rather hopeless as well." Hector retorted. Parris snorted and then started going through his brothers clothes. After a bit he stopped.

"You have a nice deep, burgundy one here that would go well with your coloring."

"Right."

"And there's this one, it's violet... nope black as well, not that one."

"What's wrong with black?"

"Nothing but your supposed to be happy not in mourning."

"I always wear black." Hector argued.

"I know." Parris replied. "The whole kingdom knows it, and it looks good on you but it's time to try something other than black or blue."

"Like what?"

"I'm working on that."

"Right. So what do I do?"

"Well, you could try to clam down for one thing," Parris paused in his search and looked back at him before wincing. "And for the love of Zeus Hector, fix your head!" he cried.

"Oh be quiet it's not my fault that banquets make me nervous, and not everyone's hair can lay the way it's supposed to like yours."

"Yes I know that, but you... that is ridiculous."

"Will you just find me something to wear Parris, for the love of Hermes!" Hector cried picking up a sandalwood scented brush and tackling his hair as Parris continued in his search muttering,

"Alright, alright." to himself. In a half an hour Hector was done with his hair having mastered it finally, pinning most of it back with golden clips. He didn't have bad hair, it was just so thick and curly that it got out of hand easily and he generally didn't have the patience for it. As a result it tended to get a lot worse before it got better. "Ah ha!" Parris cried pulling an elaborate chiton and himation set made of a deep, dark, violet, trimmed and threaded with golden strands. "This. Wear this one." He threw it onto the bed and then turned to face his brother. "Go, hurry up!" he cried and Hector nodded and started to don the set. "I can't believe that you actually needed help with this." Hector grumbled to himself but said nothing, as Parris grabbed a thick, golden, necklace and handed it to him. "Put it on. Good your hair looks halfway decent." Hector looked at himself in the looking glass and mentally rolled his eyes at his brother's comment. He looked in point of fact a little more than halfway decent; the colour made him look particularly regal set against his dark hair and coloring, but it still gave him an air of youth and vitality that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you Parris." Hector replied sarcastically.

"Not a problem." He replied and sat on the bed as Hector fastened golden bands to his wrists. "Are you escorting her there?" he asked.

"Yes." Hector replied distractedly. Suddenly he froze. "What hour it is?"

"Fast approaching a quarter past the twentieth, why?" Hector let loose a string of expletives that quite honestly, shocked and impressed Parris a good bit. "By the gods brother I didn't know you knew so many." He remarked.

"Where are my sandals?" Hector asked frantically.

"How much time do you have?"

"None, I'm already late." He replied looking for his shoes desperately.

"Hmmm." Paris mumbled and his brother stared at him expectantly.

"PARRIS!" Hector yelled a crazed look on his face, and his brother looked up blankly before he remembered what his problem was.

"Over by the bed." He said and his brother raced over to put them on. "You should keep track of time Hector, tardiness is not approved of by most women." Hector said something quite rude in return and slammed the door behind him leaving an awed and amused Parris in his wake.


	10. Second slow slide

10. The Second slow slide.  
  
Hector ran the 3 mile trek down the hallways and round the corners to Andromache's door. For the first time he realized how large the castle really was. By the time that he reached and rapped on it, he was out of breath trying to slow down his racing heart. When she opened it, black dots swam across his vision. She looked gorgeous. She wore an elaborate gold threaded peplos of swirling navy blue and hunter green silk, with golden fibulae and a train. A matching cloak with a broad border of golden embroidery sat on her shoulders attached by golden pins. Several golden ropelike chains hung about her neck, and were woven into her hair leaving only the back down and letting locks and tendrils escape to frame her face, and brush her neck and shoulders and her eyes were lined with kohl. All in all she looked marvelous, but it was the smile on her face that had taken away what was left of his breath.

"Are you alright Prince Hector?" she asked. He straightened up and nodded.

"Well, I was at least, until you opened the door." He said. "Some times you are so beautiful you hurt my eyes."

"And others?" she teased valiantly fighting a blush.

"You make me stop breathing." He replied kissing her cheek and taking her arm to lead her to the dinning hall.

"Perhaps I should wear a veil?" she suggested and he smirked at her.

"And here I was trying to be gallant." He said shaking his head.

"You don't need to try." She replied sweetly and he smiled in return.

"Thank you. I feel a lot better about that." He said and she grinned. "Were you assigned your maids?"

"Yes they are perfect. Their names are Airlia and Marea. Do you know them?" she asked.

"I believe I do. Is Airlia red headed, with green eyes. Very tall, willowy?"

"Yes."

"And Marea...Marea she is married to Maris. He is one of my best men."

"Yes. How do you know them?"

"There are the only ones who escaped Parris." Hector replied wryly.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Yes. But then Marea married Maris and I told him to leave her alone and Airlia just wasn't interested. Alyion has had his eyes on her though."

"Airlia?" Andromache asked and he nodded. "Well she is rather pretty..."

"Yes."

"Does she know he fancies her?" she asked

"Yes."

"And?"

"I don't know. All I know is that he wants her."

"Couldn't he force her?" she asked timidly, not knowing what his reaction would be.

"He probably could, but he won't. He's not that kind of man."

"Have they been here long?" she asked.

"Marea was born her, she is Trojan. But Airlia isn't, she doesn't know where she's from, no one does. She was found wondering around, alone when she was very young. My mother took her in, gave her work in the palace."

"I didn't meet her today." Andromache realized.

"No you didn't; neither her nor my sister, Cassandra." Hector said.

"Where were they?"

"Cassandra was ill, mother was seeing to her. But they should be here tonight even if it is only for a little while."

"When I asked you about your family you never mentioned that you had a sister." She commented.

"I didn't? Hmmmm. Well I do have one. She's the only one of us with blue eyes. Parris wasn't too impressed with that."

"Will Alyion be there?" she asked.

"Why?" Hector asked.

"I'm just asking. Don't worry, I still like you better." She said. He smiled sheepishly and shook his head.

"Just checking." He replied. They reached the dinning hall soon after that and she tried not to widen her eyes too much at the splendor before her. It was a hall of white and black marble, draped with flowers and golden gilding. The table overflowed with meats and fruits and bread. Servants with pitchers of wine stood at the ready, and stuffed chairs were at a remarkable long table. There were so many people, all in their best attire, looking at her. "The trick is not to make eye contact." Hector muttered to her. "That way you look regal and important when in truth you're just nervous and you don't want too much conversation." She smiled at that little bit of information as he led her to their table. He took his seat, one space down from the right hand of his father and she sat at his right in return. Parris sat at Priam's left next to a young woman with black hair and Priam's eyes. She wore a light blue peplos with silver fibulae and her dark curly hair was piled up on top of her head with silver ropes, various locks falling around her face and neck. Her wide eyes were lined with kohl and she wore a flat silver necklace with matching earrings. She was rather lovely, lush and curvy but a bit pale, too pale as if she had been ill... "That is my sister Cassandra." Hector said pointing to her. At the sound of her name her attention snapped to her brother and she smile wearily.

"Hector." She said softly. "When did you come back?"

"Just today. This is Princess Andromache my betrothed."

"Welcome to Troy." She said her smile warm but weak.

"Thank you Cassandra." Andromache replied.

"Where is mother?" he asked just as someone pressed a kiss to his cheek. He turned to be met with an older woman. She had Cassandra's hair although it was streaked with silver and Hector's eyes. She had a small stature and her daughter's curves even if she was a little heavier. "Mother!"

"Hector my dear son." she said as he turned and rose to hug her tightly. "I was so worried." She whispered.

"What for?" he asked pulling away.  
  
"I'm a mother it is my job." She replied. She glanced over at Andromache. "Is this she?" she asked.

"Yes, mother this is Andromache, Andromache this is my mother, Heccuba, Queen of Troy." He said. Andromache rose to her feet smiling kindly and Heccuba strode forward to embrace her warmly. "Welcome my child. May the Gods smile upon you."

"Thank you my Queen."

"My name is Heccuba my girl, I know my station." The elder woman replied sternly but kindly.

"Yes my lady...I mean Heccuba." Heccuba smiled and nodded before taking her seat beside Hector at her husband's immediate right. Priam took her hand in his and kissed it but other than that, they made no other outward signs of affection. "Where is Breseis?" Andromache asked.

"She's too young. Next year is her coming of age celebration." Cassandra said.

"Are you well enough for this Sandra?" Hector asked, concerned.

"Yes. But I won't be able to stay up late." She said. "I feel so tired. But I feel a lot better than I did a week ago."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." He said, and her smile got a bit broader.

"Don't be. I wasn't that much fun to be around, you missed very little."

"Andromache I have to ask, did you do anything drastic trying to escape our dear brother?" Parris inquired with a smile.

"Parris!" Heccuba remonstrated.

"What? I want to know don't I?" he asked. "You did do a little something didn't you? You have too much passion to go quietly."

"Parris, honestly." Cassandra protested.

"What?" he asked before looking at Andromache expectantly.

"I...I did try to go back." She said, mentally editing the truth.

"She jumped off the side of the ship and tried to swim back." Hector corrected. His family simply laughed and Andromache glared at her. "Damned near killed us both." He added with at smile before kissing her cheek. She rolled her eyes. As the evening wore steadily on, Andromache felt any unease that may have been in her heart melt away. Hector pointed out the foods that were particularly good, the ones that he tended to avoid (nudge, nudge), and the ones that were passable. She felt as if she were among family, calm, comfortable and accepted. Cassandra had a sharp tongue, ill and weak as she was, and a quick sense of humor much like the rest of her family. They were all rather close as well, they laughed and joked and argued much but the love and respect was always there. It was clear that Hector was the protector of not only Troy but his family. He took care of Parris and the both of them took care of Cassandra. Breseis was Parris' accomplice but Hector was her savior. Priam and Heccuba obviously doted on their children and their niece, but their feeling toward Hector was somehow more than the others. As if they doted more on him but she knew that they didn't. There was more pride for him... in the goodness of him. He was such an exceptional person; so much integrity, honor and compassion, so much love and intelligence in him. And in two weeks he would be her husband. When everyone had eaten their fill Priam rose to his feet, silencing everyone.

"My friends tonight we drink to the safe return of my son your Prince and General, and the arrival of his betrothed Princess Andromache of Thebes. May the Gods continue to smile on them and us." A combined shout of agreement sounded from the crowd, followed by cheering and as Priam took his seat, Trojan dancers came out dripping with gold, gleaming and smiling. Parris' eyes lit up so instantly that Hector could only shake his head ruefully and Andromache just laughed. There was no righting him and they both knew it. He glanced over at her smiling face and felt himself fall a little more and for the second time he wanted to kiss her. But this time the feeling was even fiercer, his hands were shaking with it, and his stomach was all but doing summersaults. He leaned over toward her.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked. She looked over at him and smiled a little.

"Alright." She replied.

The gardens of Troy were at their best at night with their paved walkways, exotic colourful plants and marble fountains. Hector led Andromache past large Sycamore tree through the flowers and shrubs and bushes and statues of the gods. She breathed in deeply and then sighed plucking a red rose before looking up at the sky.

"I love nights like these." She said softly and he looked over at her.

"What do you love about them?" he asked. She looked over at him and then shrugged looking back at the moon.

"The moon, how it glows making everything like silver, and the air how it's cool and clean so calming, and the stars... it was nicer on the boat. The stars were brighter, fuller; it was as if you really could touch them."

"You'd like to do that? Touch the stars?" he asked.

"Yes... I'd like to do a great many things Hector." She replied smiling. He watched as she turned to pick more flowers baby's breath, another rose, an orchid. He picked a violet and stuck it in her hair.

"What else would you like to do?" he asked.

"Fly." She said dreamily.

"Where would you go?" he asked handing her an orchid. She shrugged and added a piece of fern to her bouquet.

"Any where, everywhere; across the sea, to far away lands. Mt Olympus, I'd ask the gods my questions. Dance on clouds, play with stars."

"A beautiful thought." He murmured. She smiled and shrugged.

"If you got the chance to leave Troy, would you?" he asked suddenly. She frowned thoughtfully.

"I don't know." She replied. He stared into her eyes for a moment debating whether or not to push the issue but decided not to. There was ample time.

"Tell me something strange about yourself." He said. She stared at him for a moment.

"I peel my grapes." The shocked, disbelieving eyebrow he raised was all the answer she needed. She laughed and shrugged.

"Why?"

"They're sweeter when you peel them." She replied.

"Now you." He frowned thoughtfully and sighed.

"Um... well, people think that I play with my hair when I'm nervous, and I do... but the truth is that I just need something to do with my hands. And... as a result I have been known to do very strange things." She raised her eyebrows, intrigued.

"Like..." she encouraged, gesturing for him to continue.

"Like...rearrange the food on my plate, try to carve the bones of my meat... and um... peel bunches of grapes at a time." He replied. She laughed loudly at the mental picture and he smirked sheepishly.

"Do you normally peel your grapes?" she asked.

"No, of course not I think that it's silly, but when I'm nervous I'll do almost anything. Sometimes I don't even realize that I'm doing it... it's strange." She laughed again and he winced.

"That is odd." She commented.

"Astute observation." He shot back, but he was smiling. She grinned.

"If you could change one thing what would it be?" she asked.

"Only one?"

"Alright two things, but that's it." She replied. He grinned.

"I wouldn't get so nervous all the time."

"You'll grow out of that." She assured him.

"I hope so. And... my hair would be more manageable." She snorted at that before breaking out into giggles, and he glared at her.

"I'm serious a light wind blows by and everything gets shot to Hades." He complained. She shook her head still giggling. "It's not funny Andromache."

"I'm sorry." She managed, straightening her features. "That was wicked of me."

"Yes it was." He shot back. "What would you change?" he asked.

"I wouldn't be so skinny." She said ruefully. He raised both his eyebrows but wisely said nothing.

"What else?" he asked

"The world I would make everything different." His smile broadened at that.

"I should have known." He said and she blushed slightly. "What would you adjust?"

"Everything. There would be no war, no rape, no slavery, no killing. Women wouldn't be slaves to their husbands; daughters could do what they wished. Kings and Queens would act only in the best interest of their people not themselves. Women would be seen for what we are, strong and beautiful and honorable, lovable people who give life. We make life; we deserve to be treated with respect. Everyone would marry for love. Children would know their fathers, and every night would be just like this." He stared at her absolutely riveted. She was so perfect. She looked so confident, and proud, full of strength and fire.

"Sounds good. When will you get started on this world?" he asked.

"I could never do it. That's why it is a dream. You would do it if you could, but you can't." She replied.

"Why not?" he asked. "Why can't you change the world?" She looked over at him and blushed.

"You are teasing me." She said looking down at her feet.

"No, no I'm not. I want to know. I want to know your dreams." He said taking her hand in his. It was so slender, strong, her hands were made for soothing, nurturing.

"Why?" she asked softly peering up at him with those big brown eyes.

"Because, there may be one or two dreams that I could make come true." He said. "Andromache. We are to be married in two weeks and I know nothing of you. I want to know what you want from our marriage." She frowned thoughtfully and stared at him.

"What do you want from it?" she asked. "I want children. I want you to respect me, obey me, love me and listen to me." She raised an eyebrow in response. "But I need to talk with you not to you. I need you to trust me, and not fear me. I need you to challenge me mentally even physically sometimes, I need you to match me, I know that you can I have full faith in you. You will be my wife, the mother of my children, my advisor, my touchstone. I need to know you, I need you to know me; I need us to be a unit. That is what I wish for us." She stared at him her eyes full of tears. She opened her mouth so speak but nothing came out and she looked down at her bouquet. "What do you want Andromache?" She looked up at him, unsure of whether or not to say all of it, everything in her heart. "Don't fear me. Tell me."

"I need to feel needed. I want you to come to me with you troubles, tell me what you feel, what is inside you. I need to be respected, and I need to feel safe. I need you to listen to me, and bear with me when I'm troublesome. I don't want to be bullied or passed over. I want to be considered. I want you to see me as your equal, as someone that you can admire. I... I want... I need to be loved; for who I am, for what is within me. I need to know that I am." She broke off; looking away and closing her eyes. That was her main need, her sole desire, to be love by him. "I need that more than anything else, I'd die without it." She felt him come closer, felt the heat coming from his body. His calloused hands wrapped around her upper arms gently and she looked down biting her lip. She felt his hand on her cheek raising her face up to his and her heart leapt within her just like it did every time he touched her. She felt his lips touch her brow and then her cheek, and then the kiss of his breath on her mouth. She waited silently staring into his mesmerizing eyes. She couldn't look away from him, or move away even if she wanted to... and she really didn't want to move away. His eyes flicked down to her mouth for a moment, only a moment and then he kissed her. It was chaste and soft, just as he had meant it to be but her mouth was so supple and warm that he found that he couldn't pull away and he stayed for another kiss, and another, and another at which point she sighed and the years of uninterest in the opposite sex came back full force to punch him in the stomach. He had meant to pull away, he really had but the need had made it grow from a chaste kiss, to a relatively innocent one, then passion grew until he had drawn her against him, his hand threading through her hair. Her hand touched his arm softly a bit tentative and then with more confidence, sliding up to his shoulder. It was perfect to her, everything that she could have wanted in a first kiss. His other hand slid up her arm, over her shoulder, and up her neck to cradle her face, pulling her closer to him, tilting her head to the side as her lips parted with a soft sigh. He inhaled sharply and slowly pulled away gazing into her face. Her mouth was a bit puffy, her eyes were closed and her cheeks a bit red. Probably from my beard... he thought to himself. Her eyes opened slowly, focused on his and then she smiled softly.

"I'll love you Andromache." He whispered. "You'll never want for love." Her smile broadened and she nodded. "Do you believe me?" he asked.

"Yes." She replied touching his face gently with her hand. "Will you take me back to my room?" she asked quietly. He smiled and nodded. Then he took her hand and they walked back to her room in a comfortable silence.

"Do you like picnics?" he asked she opened her door. He was loathed to part with her somehow.

"I do." She replied turning to face him.

"Would you like to go for one tomorrow?" he asked. Her face lit up and she nodded.

"I should like that very much." She replied and he smiled.

"Good. I'll get you around five. It won't be to hot because there'll be that nice wind, but not too cold since the sun will be up still." He was rambling. He hadn't rambled in years. He needed to stop. "Well um.... Good night then." She smiled and handed him her bouquet and a soft kiss on the mouth.

"Good night." She said before slipping through the open door and closing it behind her. Hector stared at the wood before glancing down at the flowers in his hand. Then it hit him... he'd need something to wear. "Damn..." he muttered.


	11. And island in the sun

Chapter 11. An island in the sun.  
  
Hector paced back and forth in his room. Again he had a serious problem. He should have thought of it but he had been so set on spending more time with her that he hadn't considered the whole clothes issue. He stared at the four tunic and skirt sets on his bed and chewed on his lip frantically. He had gotten relatively far in the past two hours; he had narrowed it down to four... but now he was stuck because he wasn't sure which would look best. Why did he even care?! He didn't! He'd just wear his customary dark blue embroidered with pale blue and white and leave it at that.

_But what if she likes the red one better? _

_Who cares? _

_ME!! _

_Why? _

_I can't help it, her opinion counts. _

He growled and shoved his hands through his hair again, probably the twentieth time in the last five minutes, which was possibly, very bad. His stomach was in knots. He wanted to scream, really scream, at the top of his lungs just to relieve some of the pressure in his chest. And what was wrong with him anyway, why had he kissed her last night? Now, all that he could think about was her taste, how warm her mouth was and the feel of her body against his. She was so slight and slender, so soft. She was so perfect to him... and now that he had had a taste of her he couldn't rest. He had to remember to be gentle and patient. He had to remember that he was still a maiden and that she didn't trust him completely...he needed to get dressed. He glanced at his bed again and then chewed on his thumb. Gods he hadn't done that since he was seventeen. This was ridiculous, he was the Crowned Prince of Troy, the Protector of his people and General of his army , men followed him, enemies trembled before him and... and he was going to be late... The white one was alright but he didn't particularly like white. He picked up a comb and started to untangle his hair. Zeus it was tangled! How the hell had it gotten this way?! A knock sounded on his door and he pulled on a loose robe.

"Come in." he said trying not to sound like the nervous wreck that he was. The door opened and Breseis and Parris walked in.

"Aren't you ready yet?" Parris asked staring at his brother who was still struggling with his hair.

"Hector your hair!!" Breseis cried and Hector, loosing his patience gave the comb a sharp yank. He winced, shards of pain shooting through his head and she shrieked making him start. "No, stop that, you'll make it worse!"

"I can't help it!" he cried. "It's too tangled!" Parris looked over to his bed and frowned thoughtfully as Breseis pushed Hector down onto a bench in front of a mirror, snatched the comb from his hand and began to deal with his hair.

"Honestly Hector you really are ridiculous sometimes." She muttered.

"The yellow one." Parris said and Hector turned and gave him a look that said Are you out of your flaming mind?! Breseis tapped him sharply on the head and he turned back around glaring at her before looking at his brother in the mirror.

"I am not wearing yellow Parris." He replied in an even tone that brooked no argument. Accept from Parris.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Why not?!" Hector cried, "I have never worn that ridiculous colour in my life and I don't plan on starting today."

"The golden tone will go well with your colouring." His brother insisted.

"Pick something else."

"Oooh aren't you rather bossy for someone who is in dire need of MY help."

"Parris." Hector said warningly and Parris rolled his eyes. Just then Breseis reached a particularly nasty knot in Hectors hair and he jerked and cursed.

"Sorry." she said and Hector just sighed. Parris continued to observe.

"What about the white one?" he asked.

I can't wear white Parris; we are going on a picnic it'll just get dirty- OW!! Breseis!"

"I'm sorry!" she cried wincing. He frowned at her and she grinned sheepishly. "I'm almost done." She said helpfully.

"What about the blue one?" Hector asked hopefully.

"You always wear blue Hector." Parris said.

"I think Hector looks nice in blue." Breseis supplied.

"Thank you Breseis-WOMAN!!" he bellowed suddenly. "For the love of the Gods what are you doing?!" This time she just got mad.

"Well it's hard to untangle hair as tangled as a briar patch. It's going to hurt when I try to untangle it." She snapped.

"Yeah, but just leave some hair on my head when you're done will you!" he shot back. "Why can't I just wear the blue one Parris?" he asked. "I look good in blue."

"Don't you look good in anything else?" Parris grumbled.

"Light blue."

"Very funny." He snapped.

"How about the beige?" Parris asked. Hector stared at him as if her had grown two heads.

"The what?"

"The beige one."

"Beige?" Hector asked incredulously.

"It's like the colour of the sand, honestly Hector!" Two head progressed to two heads, ten eyes and sixteen arms.

"Are you sue you aren't a woman Parris?" he asked a bit concerned.

"Oh shut up Hector." Parris snapped holding up the outfit. Hector shrugged and nodded.

"That's alright I guess." Parris rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, wear the blue." He said. "But I still prefer the yellow."

"There I'm done!" Breseis said happily. Hector looked at his reflection and suddenly went pale. His hair was combed out and neat looking...it was also curled and pinned.

"What the hell did you do!!!" Hector all but screamed shooting up from the chair. Parris looked up from the bed grinning.

"What?" Breseis asked innocently. "It's the style everyone is doing it."

"Breseis it's curly enough already, that's the damn problem."

"It'll look nice." Parris said and Hector glared at him.

"If you want to live then for once in your life just shut up." He growled. Parris' eyes widened with alarm and a bit of hurt. "What the hell is wrong with the two of you?!" he exclaimed. "You with your damned beige and YOU!" he pointed at Breseis. "You curled my hair!"

"I thought that it would look good."

"I look like an imbecile!" Hector cried yanking at pins.

"I was just trying to help." She said.

"Well then don't, please." Hector snapped. A distant bell sounded and he cursed. "I'm late, again!" he said shoving his hands through his hair to get rid of most of the absurd curls before finally just giving up hope and tying back his hair with a leather band. He turned to face Breseis and the tears in her eyes stopped him cold. "Breseis." He started and she turned and ran off. "Damn..."he muttered looking over at his brother who was staring at him with hot accusation in his eyes. "Parris." He tried.

"You didn't have to yell at her." Parris said flatly.

"I didn't mean to." Hector replied.

"Didn't have to yell at me either."

"I said that I was sorry. I'm just so damned nervous, and I she curled my hair and I'm very, very late. Again." Hector tried to explain. "I wouldn't have yelled otherwise you know that."

"I do." Parris said sighing. "She'll be mad at you though. She hates it when you get mad at her."

"I know. I'll apologize to her tonight. But I have to go." He changed into the dark blue top and skirt, strapped on his sandals and headed out the door. He went into the kitchens and rounded up some fruit and cheese and bread and wine and stuffed them in a straw bag. Then he went off to meet Andromache. He knocked on the door and she opened it almost immediately a slightly peeved look on her face.

"Around five eh?" she asked.

"I'm so sorry but I had a slight problem and I got here as soon as I could. I'm sorry." He gushed, his eyes wide. "Please don't be mad." She took one look at his desperation and just smiled. She couldn't stay mad at him. And he looked so incredibly debonair with his long, dark, soft curls merely pulled back with a leather strap. It was the first time she had seen him like that and she enjoyed it very much.

"It's all right. I had a feeling that you would be late." She replied.

"You look pretty." He said and she laughed at his attempt to salvage himself. "Well you do."

"Thank you Hector." She replied. She really did look lovely. She wore a peplos of pale yellow linen and her hair was pinned up with small golden flowers to fall in a curled, dark, silken cascade down her back. She wore no jewelry or makeup but she still looked perfect to him. "You look remarkably handsome."

"I do?" he asked. She nodded. "Dark blue is undoubtedly your best colour." He smirked. "And I love your hair like that."

"I keep trying to tell Parris that but he insists on me trying new things." He replied. She raised her eyebrows.

"Parris consults you on your wardrobe?" she asked sweetly. He closed his eyes and winced, his ears rapidly turning crimson. "Um..." She laughed and shook her head falling even more in love with him by the second. "Normally he doesn't, but now I have someone to impress."

"Me?" she asked a bit surprised.

"Well yes." He replied. "Oh Gods don't tell me that you don't do the same, because if so, I really will die from embarrassment." He said. She laughed and shook her head.

"Oh I do, but being a wife or even a future wife it is expected of me to fuss over my appearance. I must reflect well upon my husband at all times. You on the other hand... you don't have to care."

"Well I wish someone had told me that a week ago." He replied and she laughed shaking her head. "I probably spent more time on my appearance than you did!"

"I find that hard to believe." She said. And image of Bresies' tear filled eyes flashed in his mind and he sobered immediately.

"What is it?" she asked all but feeling the change. "Bresies was helping me with my hair. It was very tangled. She was trying to help but she ended up curling my hair. She said it was the style but I looked ridiculous and I yelled at her. I made her cry." He said.

"Well that was stupid of you."

"Yes thank you for that input Andromache." He said glaring at her but she just smiled. "Parris is accustomed to my yelling and my temper but she isn't."

"I thought you said that you don't lose your temper normally." She stated.

"I know, I don't and that's the very damned thing, I wasn't even mad, not really. I was just nervous and frustrated because Parris was trying to make me wear yellow, no offense, and she kept on yanking on knots in my hair and that really hurt and I was late in collecting you and I was just really frazzled. I wasn't upset with her."

"But you hurt her feelings." She said.

"Yes I did and I cannot forgive me." He replied.

"It will be fine. Children can forgive most anything."

"Bresies has a tendency of holding a grudge."

"Hmmm. Well you'd better be really nice to her then." Andromache said. "She can be vengeful, or so Parris says."

"You have no idea." Hector replied. By this time they had reached the stables. His horse Hermes had already been saddled and made ready. "How well do you ride?" he asked latching on the basket to the horse.

"Very well. I've been riding since I could walk."

"Then you would want your own horse, yes?" he asked. She nodded and smiled sheepishly.

"I always want my own horse it's nothing personal." She replied.

"That's fine, I'll just get another one then." He replied. "I'll be back soon." She watched him walk away and pondered not for the first time on her extreme fortune. She had already made friends, her new family was kind and her husband was the best man in the world. He was amiable and loving, serious yet endearing and not just a little handsome. He cared about her, he truly did and he loved her, or at least he would. That was more than enough for her. When he re-emerged from the stables with a chestnut brown mare she couldn't help the smile that blossomed onto her face. Not just because of the horse, because it was a truly beautiful creature, but because of him. Not other man would have gone through the trouble and returned with a horse that she herself would have chosen if left to her own devices. He smiled back and she was reminded of that kiss that he had given to her the night before. She hadn't been able to sleep because of it. She had simply kept replaying it in her head over and over again feeling the butterflies in her stomach and the tripping of her heart beat. He was so careful with her, he had wanted to crush her against him and devour her but he hadn't although her pulse raced and her stomach coiled at the thought. How incredible would that have been? To feel his strong arms tight around her waist, his hands all over her back fisting into her hair, taking her mouth feverishly with his. She bushed hotly at her thoughts and looked down at her feet as he approached. "What is it?" he asked as he stopped a few inches before her.

"Nothing." She replied and he raised an eyebrow at that.

"You're blushing." He stated. Her cheeks burned even more at that and she ducked her head even lower.

"No I'm not." She replied. He chuckled and cradled her chin with his fingers raising her face up so he could see it.

"Liar." He whispered. She smirked and bit her lip, and then he gave her a soft, short, sweet kiss on the... forehead. She wanted to be disappointed but the gesture was equally lovely, giving her that same warm feeling in her gut. So she smiled and shrugged.

"So I was blushing. Big deal." She replied trying to salvage some dignity. He smirked. "What is her name?" she asked stroking the sleek coat.

"Kaia, it means 'earth'. She is Cassandra's second favorite horse and she rides and handles almost as well as Hermes over here." He said pressing a kiss on Hermes' nose.

"Almost as well?" she inquired cheekily.

"Almost as well." He replied. "Don't suppose you need help, do you?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow and swung up onto the saddle with the ease of a solider. "Right." He said launching up into his saddle. "Let's go then." She laughed and followed him out past the city walls and through the gates.

Once they had cleared them he picked up his pace, urging Hermes into a swift canter. She met the challenge seamlessly and he glanced over at her saw the sparkle in her eyes and then broke out into a full gallop. She sped up as well, matching his speed and skill grinning from ear to ear, her hair and dress billowing out behind her. They raced out to the beach and sped across the surf and all the way he heard her laughter ringing in his ears, lifting his heart. They rode up the dunes until they reached a hill covered in grass. There was a healthy sea breeze and much sun, and he slowed down glancing over at her.

"This is it." He said sliding from his saddle. He took the reigns to Kaia as she swung down from her stead and tied them to the ones for Hermes. She unstrapped the basket and rested it on the ground before sitting down next to it. Hector plopped down next to her and pulled out a blanket and started laying the food out on top of it. She tore off a piece of bread and started to eat as he poured wine for them both. He picked up an apple and bit off a hearty chunk. She smiled as she watched him chew. He had a decidedly very silly smile on his face as he gazed out at the ocean, and looked so damned happy that she felt her spirit lift just by looking at him. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes before turning his attention to her. His ears turned a slight pink and his eyes darted about slightly. "What?" he asked. She shook her head and looked down.

"Nothing." She replied. He quirked an eyebrow and continued to stare at her.

"That's not true." He replied. She looked up at him.

"I... you look so pleased and content. It makes me happy in turn." She replied. The flush of his cheeks darkened and he looked down at his hands. "Are you blushing?" she asked and his eyes shot up to her.

"No!" he cried. "Of course not... that's silly." He said taking more grapes. She nodded and grabbed some cherries. She had always liked cherries best. He almost got away with his blushing... but then he picked up a small knife and started to peel his grapes. She quirked an eyebrow and stared a small smile forming.

"Hector." He picked up another small bunch and started on them. He really was excellent at peeling them... Probably had lots of practice....

"Yes?"

"Are you sure that you aren't blushing?" she asked.

"Yes." He replied.

"Because you are peeling your grapes." She stated innocently. He looked up at her, not pausing, and frowned.

"No I'm not." He replied. Her smiled widened and her other eyebrow rose as well.

"Is that so?" she asked. He suddenly looked uncertain and glanced down at his plate, and then his cheeks got even darker at the sight of the grape skins.

"Um..." she laughed and in that moment he looked so adorable that she fell even more.

"All right, all right, fine so I was blushing."

"Am blushing." She corrected. He rolled his eyes and nodded.

"I am blushing." He grumbled. She smiled and scooted closer to press a kiss on his cheek.

"It's cute. I like it." She replied.

"You would." He muttered. Then he sighed and passed her the peeled grapes. She grinned and took them graciously popping one into her mouth with a grin. He stared at her sardonically and then shook his head. She laughed and ate some more.

"Why don't you like peeled grapes?" she asked.

"Because they feel slimy... like eyeballs." He groused.

"How do you know what eyeballs feel like?" she asked. The cute petulant look on his face disappeared and she remembered that he was a solider and the things that he had seen she could only dream about. "I'm sorry." She muttered.

"Don't." he said sharply. "Don't apologize. It was a fair question."

"I didn't mean to-"

"I know." He replied smiling slightly.

"It that why?" she asked. He stared at her silently for a moment as if in contemplation and then sighed.

"In a way. When I was little, Alyion and some other friends of mine had decided to pull a prank on me. They peeled about a hundred bunches of grapes and put me in a room. They covered my eyes with a scarf and then told me to find some dagger I think it was... anyway I couldn't see and I stuck my hand in this basin of peeled grapes and I almost passed out. They told me that it was eyeballs and I think that I screamed... I can't remember. I probably did I was about seven or eight I think. Parris hadn't been born yet so it must have been around then."

"So you think of that when you see peeled grapes?" she asked. He blushed again and glanced at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Yes. It's stupid but... I can't help it." He answered. She smiled and gave him a little hug.

"Don't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"What about you?" he asked. "Any irrational fears that I should know about?" She bit her lip and nodded.

"One. My mother had a friend once who got married."

"Is she no longer her friend?" he asked.

"She is dead." She replied. He blinked at that a bit shocked.

"How?" He asked.

"I had known her before she'd gotten married. She was so placid, so gentle warm and loving. Then she met this man who claimed to love her. He wooed her and bedded her married her. Then he changed. She changed. She was so afraid all the time, she didn't come to visit anymore. She was always bruised. Her eyes were always red. If you had seen her you would have known that she had been crying. That something was terribly wrong. She became pregnant about three times and each time she miscarried. Not because she was infertile, but because he would beat her with anything, everything what ever was available. Everyone was afraid of him. Sometimes mother would go to her when he was away, to take care of her to comfort her and she would cry and cry and cry for hours. Then one day he beat her to death. He had been drunk, she had tried to get away. I learned then to fear marriage." He stared at the food on his plate and felt sick.

"How old were you?" he asked quietly.

"Ten." She replied.

"How old was she?"

"Twenty one." She replied. Rage filled him. Twenty one? She was no more than a child, barely older than Parris or Andromache herself! What kind of a monster would beat a woman at all let alone to death?!

"That's why you were so afraid of me. That's why you tried to run away." He said bleakly.

"Yes." she replied.

"That and the way you looked. You were so tall, dark and strong. You looked mean and cold, you reminded he of Hades, what he must look like."

"Hades?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, and then you wore black at dinner." He winced.

"Right. Probably didn't help much."

"No it surely didn't."

"And then I bruised you. Gods you must have been terrified!" He exclaimed in shock. "I never thought of it."

"It's all right. I know who you are now. You aren't like him. Or Hades for that matter." She said. "You are a very good man. Full of humor and integrity and honor and love and gentleness-"

"You can stop now." He grumbled and she suddenly remembered his dislike for complements.

"Sorry. But he was a... demon at his best. A demon with a black heart."

"Thank you. It means everything that you don't think that of me. Men like that... they shouldn't be allowed to live."

"Well that's something else that we agree on." She replied and ate another cherry. "Hector?"

"Yes?"

"Promise that when we have children our girls won't be married off to some brigand."

"That I can definitely promise you." He replied. She smiled and tore off a hunk of bread and cheese. They passed the next hour in easy companionship. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they were silent but always, always they were at peace, comfortable. He found her mind to be one of the most interesting and enthralling things about her and she in turn found his big heart and peaceful nature to be one of the most beautiful things about him. She couldn't understand how a man so made for peace, for loving and healing, made for sharing and creating life could be the one of the most lethal warrior in the world, and lead such a mighty army. She could see him with his first born son, holding, cradling him in his strong arms smiling down on him finally happy, truly happy while she sat near by nursing their newborn girl. That was what he was made for, teaching, fathering, not fighting and killing. But she would make sure to be there for him when he returned from his weary travels. She would be there to comfort and cure his ailing soul. She could think of no better life, than one spent by his side. The sunset found them with her head in his lap as he fed her peeled grapes and told her stories to make her laugh. He truly loved her laugh. It was the most exhilarating sound in the world. It made him believe that flight was really possible, it made him yearn to throw back his head and scream just to relieve the pressure in his chest from repressing this joy he felt. She would bear his children, and he would love her with all his heart and soul and she would know it, the whole world would know it, he would carve it into the sky with the power of his love, her love; the love they would make together. It had been the most perfect day to him. Like they had been all alone in the most ideal place, and island in the sun, a place reserved just for them.

"I still can't believe that you would peel my grapes for me." She said, and he laughed and fed her another.

"Me neither." He replied. She glared up at him playfully still chewing and he pinched her nose gently. "You're cute." He muttered. She swallowed and gazed up at him solemnly.

"You're enchanting." She replied. He blushed and rolled his eyes. "What?" she asked confused.

"You need to stop doing that." He countered. She smiled and then sat up turning to kneel facing him.

"Why?" she asked taking his hand in hers.

"You know why." He countered. She reached up and framed his face in his hands.

"I can't help it if it's true." She said softly stroking his face gently with her soft hands. "Do you really think that by just not mentioning them your outstanding qualities will go away? You don't like to hear it because it embarrasses you, but it's true Hector, all of it. You are afraid of admitting it. But you don't have to be afraid of who and what you are, because you're beautiful." He gazed into her eyes feeling a part of him break loose and float away, like he was captivated by her eyes and her face and her soft voice. How did she know so much about him? Was he that transparent? Did he care? Not really... He shot forward and captured her mouth with his causing her to gasp and then let out a soft sigh as she leaned closer. His hands slid into her hair as he tilted her head to the side to give himself better access. She sighed again and her lips parted delicately pulling him closer. She felt his tongue stroke hers and tasted wine and fruit on it. His hands ran over her arms, down her side to her waist, around to her back, stroking caressing gently persistent in their trek and she moaned quietly. Her arms slid around his neck and she shifted folding her legs beneath her so that he could bring her closer almost into his lap. She liked kissing him a lot. He was gentle but passionate, arousing yet respectful and always so understanding. The world seemed to tilt and she found her back pressing against the blanket they had been sitting on. She could feel the soft sand give way beneath her and the slight weight of his upper body across hers. His arms were around her, cradling her as his hands moved over her back. He couldn't remember ever feeling this intoxicated by a woman before. He probably was moving too fast, but she was so soft and warm and her skin smelt so good and he desperately needed to soak himself in her as much as was mortally possible. His arms tightened slightly and he heard the soft moan in her throat before her body arched beneath him and her hands moved over his back. He probed deeper with his tongue and felt her response all the way down to his toes. She felt like she was on fire. And the only way to alleviate the ache in her chest and belly and the unbearable heat in her flesh was to pull him closer and closer, slide her hands into his thick, cool, hair and press herself against him. She moaned again and he indulged for a few more moments before pulling away tenderly, his breathing heavy. "What? What's wrong?" she panted.

"Nothing." He replied and she raised her head up to kiss him long and slow and deep. This time it was he who moaned and he wondered briefly how she knew how to kiss so well before he pulled away again and rested his forehead against hers. "We should go." He whispered. "It'll be getting dark soon." She nodded and kissed him once more.

"Very soon." She agreed, still kissing him. He grinned against her mouth.

"Andromache." He started and she pulled away again.

"I know. I'm stopping." She replied with a sigh. He rolled away before rising and helping her to her feet. Together, they packed up the picnic and mounted their horses before riding back to Troy, racing the last rays of daylight.


	12. Forgiveness

Chapter 12. Forgiveness.  
  
Andromache sat on her bed in a plain, pale pink chiton as Airlia and Marea embroidered a golden vine of flowers and leaves into her wedding gown. They had bee working on it for weeks now, turning it into a masterpiece of craftsmanship. It was a formal elaborate chiton made of pure white silk that dipped low in the front and back and fastened at her shoulders with golden fibulae shaped into roses. A golden sash would be tied below her breasts and knotted at her back, to fan out behind her above a fine foot long train. It would be so beautiful when they were done, but it was so much hard work that she insisted on supplying them with food and wine that she ordered for her and keeping them company as they worked. They appreciated the food and the company, but refused to have her sew a stitch, persevering that the fact that she fed them and talked to them was enough. Andromache had formed quite a bond with them over a short period of time like this. Staying up with them while they worked, sometimes helping them when they would allow her. Heccuba, Cassandra and Breseis had been very kind to her and very helpful, making it easy for her to fit in and feel accepted. Airlia, she had noticed had been very quiet as of late. The slim beauty seemed to be very sad and withdrawn smiling very little and always seeming to be deep in thought. "Airlia?" Andromache asked and the girl's eyes snapped up to hers instantly.

"My lady." She replied.

"You seem a bit off lately is everything all right?"

"Yes. Yes I'm fine, everything is fine..." she replied quite unconvincingly, giving a pinched smile before going back to her work.

"Somehow I don't believe you." Marea said. Airlia shrugged.

"It...it's nothing... it's nothing...I just...I'm fine it will pass..." She stuttered, stitching with shaking hands. Andromache and Marea shared a look and then Andromache got up off of the bed to kneel down at Airlia's feet.

Confess now my friend..." she said taking her hand in hers. "You are too sad for it to be nothing." Airlia closed her eyes and a lone tear streamed down her cheek.

"There is no pretense between us." Marea said wrapping a supportive arm about her slender shoulders.

"Come now. Speak." Airlia sighed brokenly and looked at them.

"You can tell no one, not even your husbands, promise me." They nodded and waited. "It is Lord Alyion." She whispered. "He wishes to have me for himself. He has been seeking me out for weeks now, months and he will not let me alone."

"Has he... touched you?" Marea asked carefully.

"No. But he wishes to and if he does so enough, then he can and will have me." Airlia replied more tears escaping her eyes.

"Hector says that it is not so. Alyion will never force himself upon you." Andromache said. "He's a good man, he will be good to you."

"I do not wish it. I do not want him to be good to me. I want him to leave me alone." She replied starting to sob.

"Well he may not be as bad as you suppose. I feared Hector with all my heart I thought that he would be cruel and harsh and unfeeling but I was very pleasantly surprised. Just give him a chance."

"It's not her fault if she is in love with another." She peered at the young girl but she looked away.

"There is no other." Airlia whispered. "But I will not be any man's whore." She looked over at Andromache. "He does not love me! I mean nothing to him! He thinks me beautiful and like a child with a toy he wishes to possess me, to have me. And he can, he has only to ask your husband."

"Do not speak of Hector as if he is a monster." Andromache replied sharply. "He is a good, kind, feeling man. But he is not my husband. Not yet at least. You are mine, and you belong to me. If he wishes to marry you off then he will have to consult me and he knows it. And I will not let any man have you." Airlia smiled sadly.

"He will not be ordered by his wife Andromache. He can do with me as he wishes."

"You are in love with him." Marea said suddenly and both Airlia and Andromache looked over at her.

"Who?" they asked simultaneously.

"Not Hector, Alyion. You love him." She said to Airlia and Andromache looked over at the young girl who now looked as if her heart were breaking.

"No, no." she whispered shaking her head fervently. "I don't!"

"You do." Marea said softly.

"No!" Airlia said flying up and walking over to the window looking out of it. Her fisted hands were pressed over her heart as if she could keep the treacherous emotions inside by brute force.

"Why else would you care?" Marea insisted gently. "Pride? I think not. If you felt nothing you could lay there and let him do what he wished. But to have him take you with no feeling, when you... your heart has enough love to fill the Aegean... that is a problem." The young girl's shoulders slumped and she turned to face them, her green eyes full of despair. Slowly her legs gave out and she fell to the ground, gasping and rocking herself back and forth.

"I see him in dreams all the time." She sobbed. "He calls to me, and I want to go to him but then I doubt him. I know that he feels nothing for me, but my heart aches for him and I reach out but he fades away. If I gave myself to him knowing that he did not love me...I don't think I would survive it." Her hand came up as if to grab her throat as she gasped in air. "I have this terrible ache in my chest and... I can't breathe... It feels like I can't breathe. I pray to the Gods all the time, to Aphrodite and Artemis...to Apollo... I pray for mercy, for strength...but I... I..." She broke out into sobs, vicious, heartwrenching sobs and Andromache and Marea flew to her side to cradle her and comfort her as she finally let loose months of pain and fear. "I don't know what to do." She whispered disconsolately.

"Airlia look at me." Andromache said firmly, holding her face in her hands.

"Look at me." Her green eyes fixed on her dark brown ones. "Hector would never, ever befriend a man who would force himself on a woman. Never. And if he found out that he had he would sever all ties with him, or kill him. I know that much of my husband. Alyion, will have to win your heart first if he means to win you. So you have no need to worry about that." Airlia nodded silently and smiled a little.

"You could just tell him." Marea suggested. And both Andromache and Airlia snorted. "Is that a no?" They looked at the older woman and then shook their heads. "All right then, I'll tell him."

"Don't!" Airlia cried. "Don't tell him! Please Marea, please don't do that!"

"Has he told you that he loves you?" Andromache asked.

"Yes. But that doesn't mean anything. Men will tell you anything to get you on your back."

"Airlia!" Andromache cried blushing but smiling.

"Well it's true." She insisted wiping her tears away.

"Still you could have worded it a bit differently." Marea said.

"In any event, he could be telling the truth Airlia. Otherwise he would have moved onto another by now. He could have anyone."

"He likes the idea of seeking untried flesh."

"For the love of Zeus Airlia, you speak of him as if he's a monster!" Andromache exclaimed.

"It's true Andromache, it is. He likes the idea of the challenge. Wearing me down, to prove how irresistible he is." She spat the last words out with venom.

"I can find out what his intentions are." Andromache supplied helpfully. And Airlia looked at her skeptically, her tears drying up leaving her sniffling.

"How?" she asked.

"Well. I could appear to be troubled, so that he'll ask my what is wrong and I will explain, with your permission that you, my faithful maid is very distressed by Alyion's advances. Then I will ask him if he has spoken to Alyion recently and then -"

"Too long, he'll see right through that. Hector deals with politics all the time he'll see right through all the nonsense and just get annoyed." Marea said.

"Good point." Andromache noted. "Well then the best approach is the direct one. The next time I see Alyion I will privately ask him what his intentions are concerning you and don't you shake your head at me Airlia." She said sternly peering at her. "He will have to prove himself to me first. And I don't care whether he is a man or a god. You are mine and I will not throw you away to a selfish man with a whim." Marea smiled and shrugged.

"Well...it sounds good to me." She said. And Airlia buried her face in her hands.

"Ok...all right...do it." She muttered and then looked at them dropping her hands into her lap.

* * *

He couldn't believe that Breseis still hated him. It had been days now, almost a week, and she hadn't exactly made her current dislike of him a secret either. Anytime that she saw him she would glare long and hard and then walk stalk away before he could say anything. Either that or make snide comments just loud enough for him to hear. It was bugging him severely. It was now a few day to his wedding and any excitement that he had worked up would be brutally deflated by her acrimonious temperament. Exactly how much time did a woman need to calm down anyway? Even Andromache hadn't been so bad and she had had more reason to hate him than she did. He had had enough of it. He was not going to sit around and the verbally stoned to death by a fifteen year old. He nodded to himself and rose to his feet. He turned and strode over to the door, opened it and marched down the hallway with a determined look on his face. He was going to make her love him again even if he killed himself doing it. He reached the women's quarters in record time and rapped sharply on the door. Marea opened the door and he opened his mouth to talk but paused at the look that she was giving him.

"What?" he asked staring at her slightly puzzled. Her eyebrows shot up and then she smiled shaking her head.

"Nothing my lord. Did you need something sire?" she asked.

"What are you doing in there?" he asked.

"Airlia and I are sewing the bridal gown for Princess Andromache." She replied. He narrowed his eyes and peered at her but she didn't flinch.

"Is everything all right sire?" he nodded and looked beyond her shoulder catching sight of his future bride. Memories of their picnic swarmed through his head and he blushed suddenly and looked down. Marea raised an eyebrow and then glanced back at her now red mistress, making a mental note to ask her about that later. "Sire?" she asked returning her attention to him. He barely looked her in the eye and scratched the back of his head.

"Have you seen Breseis?" he asked.

"She was in the garden the last I knew sire." She answered. He nodded and turned away.

"Thank you... Marea." He said, as if as an afterthought half turning to her as he walked away, and she nodded respectfully. As it turned out Breseis was still in the garden when he arrived. She was also none too impressed with him, even now for as soon as she caught sight of him, she started to walk away. After glaring at him of course. He rolled his eyes and followed quickly. She glanced behind her, saw him following and sped up until she was running. He growled underneath his breath and ran after her grabbing her arms and spinning her around.

"Get off you swine!" she cried struggling with him but he held fast.

"Breseis."

"Let go!"

"I need to speak with you."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Stop being difficult!" he cried.

"Stop being yourself." She shot back elbowing him in the ribs. He doubled over for a second and she started to walk away but he grabbed her hair. "Ouch!" she screamed and her hands flew up to his trying to dislodge it. Wrapping it around his fist he pulled her back and spun her around. She glared up at him, radiating menace even though he was a good foot and a half taller than she was. "I hate you." She said peevishly.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"I don't care!" she snapped and as was his habit with her he released her hair cupped her elbows in his palms and picked her up. "Put me down this instant!" she screeched. It would all have been very amusing if he wasn't so annoyed with her, so instead of smiling he shook her instead until she shut up. He stopped a moment later.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"You great bully, you thin-" he started to shake her again.

"How about now?" he asked a few moments later. She glared at him.

"If you are trying to get me to forgive you then you're doing a terrible job." She said sharply.

"I'm trying to get you to shut up but I'm beginning to wonder if it's even possible." He replied. She glared at him and pouted.

"I still hate you." She muttered.

"I'm aware, now will you be quiet so that I can apologize?" he asked. "Or do I have to shake you again?" he started to do just that.

"NO! You'll make my teeth fall out!" she cried her eyes wide. He grinned at that statement.

"All right then Breseis I won't." he said lowering her to her feet. But still keeping his hands on her elbows. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you. I was completely out of order. I asked for your help and you had given it. I wasn't even all that mad at you." She snorted and he glared warningly tightening his hands on her elbows but she relented. "I wasn't mad at you, I was nervous, and jittery and quite a bit late but I was never mad. Under different circumstances I would have thought it rather funny actually. From the bottom of my heart I apologize for being a-"

"Horse's ass?" she put in. His eyes widened.

"I don't even know how you know that word but-"

"-Alyion taught me-" She cut in.

"-I don't want to know." He finished with a sigh. She smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist pressing her cheek against his stomach. He cradled her head with one hand and wrapped the other arm about her holding her close.

"Don't be mad at him all right?" she asked. He shook his head.

"What's the point, just try not to use it around mother or father or they'll have my skin for it." He said. She laughed and nodded. "Good word choice though." He commented and she laughed again.

"I love you Hector." She said. It was simple but sweet and I made him smile.

"And I love you cousin." He replied.


	13. The Claiming

Chapter 13. The Claiming.  
  
Andromache stood absolutely still as Airlia and Marea dressed her. Cassandra sat on a chair in the corner, with Breseis at her feet the little girl completely transfixed by the preparations. The ablutions had been completed; her skin had been rubbed with goat's milk and then anointed with frankincense and sandalwood scented oils. Her hair had been washed and brushed and rubbed with silk until it gleamed like a dark replica of the material before being scented with sandalwood and jasmine. Her breath was sweetened The night before she had spent two hours praying and giving tribute to Aphrodite, Hera and Artemis for passion, a happy marriage and forgiveness respectively. She waited as they slipped her into her bridal gown, adjusting the folds and ties, wrapped the sash about her, slipped twisting arm bands onto her upper arms and fastened a golden vine like necklace about her neck. Next they styled her thick hair; curling and pinning, gliding on golden beads and coiling locks of hair about her head, leaving some falling elegantly over her shoulders and down her back. They lined her eyes with kohl, sprinkled gold dust along her cheekbones and eyelids and painted her mouth a deep, dark, lustrous red. Next they attached her veil; the transparent material covering her from head to toe held in place on her head by ornate golden pins. When she was finally ready they took a step back to admire their handy work.

"Oh Andromache you look absolutely perfect!" Breseis gushed. "When I get married I want to look just like you!" Andromache laughed and shook her head.

"Breseis you flatter me." She said but her hands were shaking, wringing and she wanted to bit her lips.

"Don't bite them." Cassandra warned as if by reading her mind. "Or we'll have to put the lip paint back on. And Breseis is right. You look like a vision. However," she said flipping back the front section of her veil to show her face. "We don't need to cover your face just yet." A knock sounded on the door and Andromache jumped and spun around almost tripping, her eyes wide.

"Is it he? It can't be, it's not time yet." Andromache rattled and then she looked over at Marea. "Well answer it will you?!" she cried almost on the verge of tears. Marea smiled and walked over to the door. It was Queen Heccuba. She was dressed in a silk chiton of red and gold her curly, salt and pepper hair, swept back and half up with ornate pins and falling over her right shoulder, the customary golden wreath on her head. She entered, caught sight of her son's bride and gasped.

"Oh my dear!" she gushed. "You look wonderful!" she rushed over to Andromache and took her hands in hers. "Oh your hands are like ice. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not." Andromache whimpered. Heccuba laughed and shook her head.

"I was the same way the day I was to marry Priam. And before that he caught me trying to kill him about ten times." Andromache's eyes widened and the first non-nerve infested smile that day crossed her face.

"You did?" she asked.

"Oh yes. With knives, daggers, fibulae, his sword...I was inventive. I was so full of righteous anger."

What happened?" Breseis asked scooting forward from her seat on the floor, an eager expression on her face. Heccuba took one look at her niece, smiled warmly and walked over to her. She knelt down beside her and stroked her hair with a gentle hand.

"Well, we were in the middle of a rather heated argument and he grabbed me, yanked me close and kissed me. Probably to just to shut me up but... I went absolutely limp and from that moment on... well let me just say that we got along a lot better." She said slyly. Breseis smiled brightly and sighed and Marea smirked. Heccuba glanced over at her and raised an eyebrow.

"You know what I'm talking about?" she asked.

"My husband, m'lady... he has to do that to me all the time." She replied smiling and Heccuba laughed. Andromache looked down at her hands and felt a tiny curl of heat in her belly remembering the picnic that she had shared with Hector. Since then she had been so caught up with wedding preparations that they had not gotten much time alone, but every time he looked at her she remembered and her heart raced.

"Andromache?" Heccuba said.

"Are you all right dear?" she rose and glided over to her taking her face into her warm hands. She looked up at her and smiled shakily.

"Yes... I...I'm fine." She replied.

"You're blushing!" Cassandra said.

"I'm not." Andromache insisted looking back down at her hands.

"Something happened with Hector on that picnic they have been blushing around each other ever since." Cassandra said walking up to her smirking.

"Andromache?" Airlia asked with a raised eyebrow. Andromache looked at them anxiously biting her lip before breathing in a deep breath.

"He kissed me." She said and Breseis gasped.

"He did."

"When?"

"At the picnic. At sunset... I get a strange feeling in my stomach whenever I think about it."

"What was it like?" Breseis asked, her eyes wide.

"Heavenly." She replied with a sigh.

"It was perfect, he was so...I can't describe it."

"Try!" the young girl begged.

"Breseis!" Cassandra exclaimed.

"But I want to know. I've never been kissed."

"You had better not be." Heccuba muttered.

"I've waited my whole life for it... I want to know what to expect. Do tell me Andromache, was it soft and slow and dreamy, or was it passionate and wild?" Andromache blushed at the last description and bit her lip. Passionate and wild indeed!

"It was a bit of both actually." She replied and Breseis sighed again and smiled wistfully.

"That's so wonderful!" she gushed. "I want my first kiss to be like that too."

"That wasn't our first." Andromache whispered.

"Oh it wasn't was it?" Marea asked.

"No... it was the night that we arrived in Troy. We were walking in the garden... he asked me what I wanted from our marriage and we got to talking about it and... one thing led to another."

"What was that one like?" Airlia asked.

"Slow and dreamy." Andromache said smiling at the memory of his gentleness and patience. Just then a knock on the door sounded and all of them looked up at it.

"Bring forth the maiden Princess Andromache." A voice that sounded much like Alyion called. Andromache's eyes widened significantly and she looked over at Heccuba and Marea.

"You have nothing to fear in Hector." Marea said coming to her. She embraced her warmly and kissed her cheeks before covering her face with her veil once more.

"She is right." Heccuba said before taking her arm. "Come, he is waiting." She led her to the door opened it and led her through. Sure enough it was Alyion, dressed in a formal chiton and himation of emerald green and gold. Beside him stood Hector and in formal robes of white embroidered with gold, and broad golden bracelets at his wrists and a short rope like necklace circling the base of his throat. His soft, curly, dark brown hair had been subdued into it's customary golden clips and his short bangs were tucked back and out of his face for once. He looked very regal and handsome and seemed to radiate valor and honour and kindness, like some sort of benevolent god. He smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back at him, her heart jumping but her hands steady for once since the sun rose that morning. When he saw her, looking like a vision of loveliness he'd expected his stomach to seize up and his throat to constrict. But instead, a warmth that had nothing to do with the rising sun started from his soul, from the very center of his being and spread throughout his body down to his fingertips and the soles of his feet. Her eyes locked onto his and he smiled unable to stop himself. And why would he want to? Alyion cleared his throat breaking the moment and she glanced over at him. He winked at her and drew in a deep breath.

"My lord, you may claim your bride." He said. Hector straightened, his head high, and strode forward to stand directly before her. Gently, he took he hands into his, drawing them together and raising them to his lips for a soft kiss.

"Andromache." He said in a clear voice. "I hereby, before these witnesses, claim thee as my wife." She smiled and nodded, any doubts that she had had before melting into nothingness before the promise of love and devotion she saw in his perfect black eyes.

* * *

The night sky was clear and beautiful, the stars so bright that the absent moon made no difference. A cool breeze blew through an open window where Andromache stood, still in her wedding gown and veil. Her things had been transferred to Hectors chambers her life now completely merged with his in every way but one. A sick kind of blind terror filled her at the thought of it and she didn't know why. Now more than ever she wished for her mother again. She wanted to be held by her, and breathe in her warm scent of violets and sunshine. Tonight she would give her body to Hector, he would take her innocence and make her a woman. Her hands started to shake again and a strong wind came through the window sending her veil billowing out behind her. A knock sounded from the door and she turned to face it. 

"Come in." she said, her voice exhibiting a calm that she did not feel. Marea entered holding a thin, almost transparent, shapeless, night rail with a slit that reached her knees at either side. She smiled at Andromache but said nothing to her. There was nothing that she could have said. Silently she helped her undress folding her gown and veil carefully and resting them in an ornate chest that had been made specifically for it. Then she helped her take down her hair pulling out the beads and hair pins and clips and brushing it out carefully. She ran a warm bath with goat's milk and frankincense and helped her scrub off the facial paint and the dust from the day. Then she dried her off and dressed her in the gown, one side immediately sliding off of her slender shoulder. She brushed out her hair again, now to soothe more than out of necessity. When she was done she kissed her forehead and then left just as Heccuba came in still wearing the gown she wore at the wedding banquet.

"How do you feel?" Heccuba asked coming up to her.

"I don't know. I'm anxious and terrified at the same time. I want to be with him but my hands won't stop shaking." Heccuba took the said hands into her own and pulled her over to the bed sitting her down next to her.

"You have nothing to fear in him. He is a considerate man, a rare one. He understands the gravity of your situation he knows what you fear. By nature he is a gentle man, a compassionate one, there is much love inside of him to give. And he will use all of it to make this night as beautiful and as special as it should be for you." She said wrapping an arm about her shoulders and pulling her close. "You are one of the lucky ones I'm afraid."

"I know it... but I just can't help it."

"I know. When he comes you will see." Andromache smiled and nodded. Heccuba took her face into her hands and pressed a warm kiss on her forehead. "I hope that your marriage is blessed with love and many children my dear."

"Thank you Heccuba." She smiled back at her and then she left as well, leaving Andromache alone. She was still not placated, and it was so silly that she became a bit angry with herself. What was wrong with her? If it was one person that she would want to give herself to it was him. He was such a good, honorable, kind man, one worthy of love and respect, a man with equal measures of strength and tenderness. But still, even with all that knowledge, and her heart yearning for union with him, she couldn't help the fear. What would she do when he came? She had her duties to perform and as a husband he had a right to her whenever he wished. Gods but she was terrified! What if he found her unsatisfactory? She truly wished that she wasn't so skinny. What if she repulsed him? Well that was a silly thing to think after the way he had kissed her. But the doubt gnawed at her. Where was he anyway? What if he came in drunk and took her like a crazed animal. She had been told that it hurt terribly, that it felt like being rendered in two. She moved to kneel in the center of the bed and closed her eyes, feeling the tears coming. He was going to be so angry with her. He would be hurt and frustrated that after all this time she couldn't trust him. He was rather formidable when he was angry. What if he hit her?

_He was so strong... _

_Stop it!! _

_He wouldn't do that and you know it._

She felt the warm tears side down her cheeks and buried her face in her hands. He wouldn't hit me, he cares for me he's not like that. But the tears came anyway and the anger at her weak foolishness gave way to panic. He would be there soon! What would she do if he came in and saw her crying? She had to stop. She swiped frantically at her cheeks and took deep breaths trying to calm herself down. Five minutes later she succeeded. Her cheeks were dry, and her breathing regulated but her hands were shaking something fierce. He would be so mad. The door opened and she looked up and over to see Hector close the door behind him. His eyes met hers and he gave her a small and slightly nervous smile, which she returned. The silence between them was for the first time uncomfortable and his stomach started to contort again and his hands were itching for his hair. He removed his chiton and himation, folding them and laying them on a chair, leaving him in only a light, black under skirt.

He walked over to her slowly, noting how pale she looked, how wide and apprehensive her eyes were. He stopped at the foot of the bed and regarded her for a moment. Her dark curly hair tumbled about her slight shoulders in rich thick waves, one of the sleeves of the thin gown she wore had slid off of her shoulder and halfway down her arm, and the soft candle light created a halo about her. She looked innocent, and very young, like the eighteen that she was. He reached out his hands to her and she took them hesitantly, but he noticed that they were shaking and that they were ice cold. He pulled her closer rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs and she looked down at the bed and took a deep breath as if to steel herself. He released her hands to take her face into his hands tilting it upward so that he could see it. She smiled tentatively and tried to look down again, her eyelashes brushing his thumbs. He leaned forward and kissed her brow gently and she leaned into him slightly trying her best to draw in enough comfort to stop her hands from shaking. He pulled away and then kissed her lips his hands sliding down her arms slowly, caressing gently. Her heart jumped in her chest and she leaned into him as his tongue parted her lips and slid inside. He felt her trembling even as she kissed him back timidly. She was so sweet. So sweet and soft and warm. He touched her face again, felt something warm and wet on his fingertips and he pulled away. She gasped and looked down wringing her hands. "Andromache." He said and he felt another shudder go through her. Alarmed now he raised her face up to his and saw that her cheeks were wet and her eyes fearful. "What is it? What is wrong?" She pulled away and jumped off of the bed walking over to the window. He followed her slowly giving her time to brace herself but her shoulders were tensed. "Andro?" he tried again using the affectionate nickname the he had started to use for her. His hands gripped her shoulder and turned her around and his stomach gave a sick lurch at the look on her face. "Tell me. Tell me what is wrong." She looked so fragile and lost and he couldn't resist the urge to hold her close against her, the urge to comfort. She pressed her face into his shoulder and sighed as he stroked her hair.

"I'm sorry." She muttered against him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"I can't help it. I know that you won't hurt me and, I know that you're a good man. Please don't get mad at me, I'm trying, I've tried but I can't help it." She pleaded desperately, her eyes beseeching.

"You aren't ready." He said simply. It wasn't even a question.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She whimpered. He shook his head and released her, taking her hand into his, pressing kisses to each one in turn.

"If you wish me to wait then I will. Is that all?" he asked. She stared up at him shocked and more than a bit confused.

"You...you aren't angry with me." She asked. He stared at her silently fighting down the frustration and anger but he could not keep the hurt down.

"Have you no confidence in me?" he asked quietly sadness in his eyes and voice.

"I do. I do." She said quickly. "It's just that you've been so generous and thoughtful already. I thought that you would be... it is your right as my husband, and I thought that you would find this to be.."

"Too much?" he asked and she nodded looking ashamed.

"I care for you, and I know that you care for me but I'm just not ready. I'm sorry. I tried, I did. I just...I can't." He nodded calmly. The words stung a bit but all the anger and frustration and the sadness melted away, turning into tenderness and the need to protect. She was trying, he knew it, and she was so precious to him and now all that he could think about was putting her mind at ease.

"I'm not angry with you Andro. You and your love are worth waiting for." He stroked her soft cheek gently wiping away the tears. "Besides, I'm tired anyway." She beamed up at him, and then laughed before flinging her arms about his neck and clinging.

"Thank you." She whispered. He squeezed her small waist in his arms and she giggled. "Thank you so much." She felt his mouth press against her neck and she sighed before loosening her arms and leaning back to gaze up at his face. He kissed her mouth softly and she smiled against his smooth lips and arched into him. He leaned her back ward a tiny bit and squeezed her closer for a moment before releasing her.

"Let's go to bed." He said. "Wife." He added teasingly after a moment.

"Indeed, husband." She replied and he grinned. Then, simply on a whim, he scooped her up into his arms. She squeaked and then laughed before twining her arms around his neck and leaning her head onto his bare shoulder as he carried her over to the bed. That night, as she lay with his arms wrapped around her from behind, his head resting partly on her neck and partly on her head she smiled to herself.

"Is this all right Andro?" he asked softly.

"This is perfect." She replied twining her fingers with the hand that he had on her stomach and snuggling back into him. She felt warm and safe and cherished, needed. He stayed awake until he felt her breathing ease and even out before he allowed his eyes to close and joined her in the land of slumber.


	14. A New World

**Chapter 14. New World.**

When Andromache awoke the following morning it was to the feeling of being pleasantly crushed. Hector, she realized, was very much accustomed to being in his own bed, but instead of pushing obstacles out of the way, he simply draped himself on top of them, what ever or who ever it was. Presently, his arm was banded tightly around her waist and his thigh was on her hip. His entire torso was half on top of her, his head resting on hers, his nose pressed into her neck. His beard was a bit rough, and he was rather heavy, but his body was hard and warm against the cool morning air, and he smelt of sandalwood. Altogether it was a rather lovely way to wake up and she smiled to her self and sighed opening her eyes to the morning light. She was married to this adorably wonderful man. She stretched out her body, yawning and he shifted, his arm tightening pulling her closer. Then his hand slid from where it was underneath her stomach up to her breast and rested there holding it. She blinked and glanced down at it momentarily before bushing and giggling quietly. It was a bit thrilling, considering that no man had ever touched her there, platonically or otherwise, but it didn't feel dirty or wrong in anyway. It was nice, comforting, like he had found the perfect person to share his bed with and it was her and he was never letting anyone harm her... not even himself. She bit her lip and snuggled back against him and smiled. It wasn't bad at all being married, well being married to Hector at least. The night before she was positive that he would have been livid. But instead he had smiled and kissed her. He had understood her fear and had made her feel special. She felt him jerk slightly and then he sighed. She waited but he didn't move. Briefly she wondered what he looked like asleep. Slowly she turned around in his arms, tucking her hands beneath her chin only to see two sleepy, black orbs staring at her. She smiled slightly and touched his face with her fingertips.

"Morning." She whispered. He smiled and sighed.

"Good morning." He replied, his deep voice rough and husky from sleep. "Did you sleep well?" he asked he asked reaching out to stroke up and down her arm with his hand. She smiled and nodded feeling strangely elated as she tucked her hand back under her chin. She wanted to stretch and purr as his hand moved over her back but instead she closed her eyes and sighed. He stared at her silently, taking in her soft full mouth and thick lashes, her high cheekbones and slight freckles. She was his wife now, she belonged to him. The god's seen him as worthy of her and right then she swore to himself and to her that he would continue to prove himself as worthy of her love as long as there was breath in his body even if it meant giving up his very life.

"What do you have to do today?" she asked. He shrugged tracing patterns on her skin with his fingertips. Her skin was so soft and warm and smooth, he couldn't help but touch. She had never noticed how long and thick his eyelashes were, but now, with her face so close to his, she could notice every detail; the sharp lines of his face, the soft, dark, curls of his hair streaked from time spent in the sun, the fullness of his mouth, the deep golden hue of his skin, the slight, dark, beard. She was staring and she knew it but she couldn't help it and she couldn't care. He was so beautiful. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, feel his smooth skin, trace his features. A slight hue of pink coloured his cheeks and his eyes snapped up to her , now more alert.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked. She blushed in turn and looked down.

"You're nice to look at." She replied. He rolled his eyes at that comment and rolled onto his back. She stared in silent awe at his chest. The night before she had been too frightened to notice it but it was broad like his shoulders, and well muscled with the faintest sprinkling of dark hair across it. His stomach was sculpted and washboard-flat with a thin line of hair trailing down the center of it. She wanted to touch, to see if it was as hard as it looked. He glanced at her and then rolled his eyes again.

"Stop staring at me!" he cried. She smiled, knowing that he was merely embarrassed and then propped herself up on her elbow resting her head in her palm.

"I can't help it. I've never seen a man without a shirt before... well none with a body like yours that is."

"For the love of Apollo it's just like any other mans. There's nothing spectacular about it." He said his ears now turning red as well. "And exactly who have you seen shirtless?" he asked as an after thought. She rolled her eyes, choosing not to answer that question and then ran them down the length of him deliberately, his nerves removing hers.

"That's not true." She replied. "Some men are fat and others are skinny, some are a mixture of both, others are just a little muscular, and then the others are too muscular and that's disgusting and then they are very hairy... and they smell." He laughed and shook his head. "But you, you have the perfect amount of muscle, and it's lean not bulky, and you aren't very hairy at all... it's nice."

"You sound like an expert." He muttered and she shrugged.

"Well all I know is what I've heard. And you can tell a man's form beneath his clothes. I like your body." She said scooting over to him and snuggling against him, her head on his shoulder. She felt and heard his chuckle and he glanced over at her even as his arms came around her waist to hold her against him.

"Glad to hear it." He replied dryly. She smiled and then sighed as he leaned in to give her a soft kiss. A knock on the door sounded and he groaned pulling away.

"Prince Hector." A voice called. She glanced up at him. His eyes were closed and he wore a look of annoyance on his face. She heard his sigh and then he opened his eyes.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Your father has need of you my lord."

"Thank you. Tell him that I will be there soon." He said. Andromache shifted off of him and he sat up swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His back was thickly muscled as well as his arms, and his hips narrow. He rose to his feet and walked over to the wash room running his hands through his hair tiredly. When he emerged a half an hour later, he was dressed informally in a robe of black linen with golden piping that crossed in the front and fastened with a tie at his side, and a matching knee length skirt. She could still see some of his chest, his hair was back in it's golden clips. He fastened broad golden armlets to his wrists and sat on the bed to lace his sandals. "I'm sorry." He said to her. "I thought that I would have more time but..." he shrugged sheepishly. She just smiled and sat up.

"You can't help it." She replied.

"I will try to return as soon as I can." He said. "I'll take you out somewhere."

"Where?" she asked, crawling over to him.

"Where ever; somewhere where they can't reach me." He replied. She nodded as he stood and then turned to face her. He stared, not quite sure what to do and extremely uncomfortable. She smiled slightly and shrugged and he smiled back. "Well, um..." he muttered and she peered at him expectantly as he thought of something to say. Then he leaned down catching her face in his hands and kissed her firmly and sweetly on the mouth. He pulled away a little to look into her eyes and she smiled, then he kissed her forehead gently and left the room.

* * *

When Hector returned to the room, Andromache was weaving. Her hair was mostly bound up and back by a white sash, with only random stubborn locks of hair falling over her shoulders and her ears into her face. She was dressed in a long, pale blue peplos of thin linen that crossed in the front and dipped low in the back. Her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, her slender fingers moving nimbly to create what looked like a cloak. The sun was at its full height already giving him an idea of how long he had been gone, and a faint sheen of sweat covered her arms. Slowly he walked toward her as she worked admiring her silently. She really was a joy to behold, even if she was bordering on thin. She was strong; he had felt the strength in those arms and legs. She paused briefly to swipe at an annoying lock of hair with her hand before sighing and resuming her task.

"Is that for me or you?" he asked. She sprang to her feet with a loud cry and whirled about her eyes wide with fear, tripping over her skirts and crashing to the ground, falling over her weaving frame and knocking over her stool sprawled out onto her stomach. She rolled over onto her back to look up at him, and as recognition set in she went limp with relief pressing her palm against her heart.

"Hector." She gasped and climbed to her feet glaring at his smiling face, crossing her arms over her chest. "That was a terrible thing to do." He smiled and shrugged.

"I've been here for about fifteen minutes it's not my fault that you didn't notice me." He replied walking over to her. He reached out and slid his hands down her upper arms soothingly still grinning.

"You should have made yourself known." She replied still glaring up at him. It was rather amusing to watch when one considered how tall he was compared to her but still she glowered, her mouth starting to form a pout. He pulled her close and pressed a warm kiss on her vexed lips giving her a quick squeeze before pulling away.

"I'm sorry Andro." He said.

"If you're smirking when you apologize it doesn't count." She replied before walking past him. She was no longer frowning but she was still annoyed.

"I am so sorry." He said. She glared at him over her shoulder as she bent over, righting her frame and stool.

"I'm sure." She said dryly. He chuckled and walked over to her but this time she heard him coming and she hopped out of the way. He raised an eyebrow as she sat back down and went back to her weaving with a self satisfied smirk on her face. He watched her for a moment and then picked her up, practically setting her on his shoulder. She squealed her arms and legs flailing as he walked over to the bed. "Hector put me down!!" She screamed and then he flipped her onto the bed. She leaned none too gracefully, bounced three times and then came to a pause, still glaring at him. He laughed and crawled on top of her on his hands and knees, leaning down to kiss her again longer this time deeper. He heard her tiny whimper followed by a sigh and then her entire form went limp again this time from pleasure. He pulled away, waited until her eyes fluttered open and then smiled at her. This time she smiled back. Suddenly a slightly sad look crossed his face as he brushed back a lock of hair from her cheek, his eyes taking in her face. She frowned , confused at his suddenly somber countenance. "What is it?" she asked softly reaching up to stroke his cheek. His lips twitched into a wry smile and he shook his head.

"Nothing." He replied, smoothing out the lines on her brow gently with his thumb but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Hector-" she started but he shook his head and kissed her mouth gently deeply until she forgot what she had been about to say. When he pulled away her eyes were unfocused, and her skin was flushed. He smiled at her and she smiled back her breath a bit shaky.

"How are you at archery?" he asked. She rolled them until she was above him, straddling his legs.

"Better than you." She replied archly. He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at their new position. _Frisky are we?_ He thought to himself.

"Is that so?" he asked. She smiled and rocked back onto her haunches still straddling his legs as he propped himself up onto his elbows.

"It is." She replied.

"I'm afraid that I'm going to have to challenge you to a match wife. I don't think that I believe you." He said. She shrugged, still smiling smugly.

"I cannot refuse you my lord." She replied.

"No but you can send me raving to Tarterus." He grumbled grabbing a pillow and whacking her on the head with it, sending her sprawling on to the bed giggling. He watched her as she stared at him, her eyes twinkling before she slapped him with another pillow. It was about two scream, laugh and shout filled hours later before they emerged from the room, Andromache with her hair completely loose and about her shoulders and Hector with his hair in its typically disheveled state, both of them flushed and grinning like fools their arms about each other. They headed to the training courtyard for their bows and arrows and servants set up targets for them to shot at. They had barely started before Hector realized that his wife was rather brilliant with a bow and arrow. Much to his surprise, she had been right; she was a little better than he was. She would never match him with the sword but at archery she was a rather formidable opponent. Even now as he watched her pull the string back for the fifth time, her eyes focused on the target it amazed him. She looked as proud as an Amazon, all fire and strength, her form prefect and her eyes alert. She released the arrow and it shot forward landing perfectly in the center of the target. She smiled and glanced over at him, smug, proud and terribly beautiful.

"Who taught you?" he asked taking aim with his own bow and arrow.

"My brothers. They taught me to ride and swim as well." She replied.

"Hmmm." He muttered releasing it. It landed rather close to hers and she smirked as a servant removed the two fired arrows. "How good are you with moving targets?" he asked. She shrugged and readied her bow and arrow.

"Alright I suppose." She replied releasing it. It landed in the center as well and she sighed lowering her weapons.

"Hmmm." He muttered again taking aim and firing. It landed on top of hers. He smirked and lifted his head higher. "Hunting?" he asked glancing at her. She grinned at him in reply. Fifteen minutes later they were riding past the gates of Troy, racing past the beaches and on towards the forests he on Hermes and she on Kaia. He spared a glance over towards her and couldn't help but grin. She sat up straight and proud, her entire form relaxed her face glowing. Her hair streamed out behind her, and the skirt of her gown had been pulled up so that she could ride astride more easily showing off long, strong, tanned legs. She looked like Artemis, or a young Athena. When they reached the forest they slowed down a bit, not much but just enough so that they could safely maneuver through the trees. She truly was a marvel on a horse he watched as she skirted around a tree and ducked a branch effortlessly, almost single handedly. "We'll stop here." He said spotting a brook in a clearing and pulling on the reigns. They both skidded to a stop and he swung down to the ground. She sprang from her saddle and landed lightly on her feet before walking her steed over the brook so that it could drink. There was a sheen of sweat on her skin from the heat of the day causing her hair to stick to her flesh and her skin to glow. He watched as she fiddled with her hair for a moment before grabbing it and tying it in two knots down the length of her back missing only a few strands and a stubborn lock behind her ear. "I wish my hair was that submissive." He said leading Hermes over to the brook as well. She glanced over at him and then threw her head back and laughed. Most of the hair around his face had escaped the confines of their clips to fall across his forehead. He gave her wry smile before shoving the locks back with his hand and pulling out their bows and arrows.

"I like your hair the way it is." She said coming up to him. He glanced at her disbelievingly. "I do, it looks rakish and manly."

"Messy hair?" he asked. She rolled her eyes as she brushed some of his hair away from his brow gently tucking it away so that it wouldn't be in his face.

"Not all messy hair just yours." She replied. "You pull it off well. When it's perfectly groomed you look definitely princely without a doubt but... like this it seems more relaxed and charming, more like you somehow." He raised an eyebrow and she kissed his cheek. "Come on then, let's see how good you are." She said grabbing a bow and a slew of arrows from him and striding off past the line of trees. He sighed grabbed his own set of equipment and followed her. "What did your father have to speak to you about?" she asked.

"Just some thing that he needs me to do." He replied looking a bit guilty. She glanced over at him and saw the change.

"What is it?" she asked. He sighed and looked over at her smiling sadly.

"Father is in the process of working out peace treaties as you well now." He said. "Thebe, our marriage: it was all part of that." She nodded. "Agamemnon is taking over all of Greece. We may be able to hold him but we cannot do it alone, we need allies. That's were I come in. As Crowned Prince; I have to go secure and or forge our alliances. Today, this morning, father told me of another place I must go."

"How soon must you go?" she asked quietly. He looked away.

"A fortnight at the very latest, It very well could be within a week." He replied gently walking up to her.

"But... but we just got married." She whispered trying not to sound too whiney. It was silly he was Crown Prince, she knew that he had duties but she had so been looking forward to spending time with him.

"I'm sorry Andro." He said stroking her arms. "But these things must be done quickly and far in advance." She looked down at the bow in her hands and bit her lip trying not to cry. "We can't wait and risk losing valuable allies if we don't start building ties now when Agamemnon comes for Troy we will not have the strength to repel him." He cradled her chin with his fingers and tilted her face up but she looked away cursing the solitary tear that rolled down her cheek. "Andromache it must be done." She bit her lip again and nodded quickly but she wouldn't look at him. "Andromache look at me." He said and she shook her head violently blinking back more tears. She hated crying, she really did. It wasn't his fault that he had to go! It wasn't anyone's fault, it was his responsibility. He was the heir to the throne, he had to learn first hand and grow into a man fit for kingship. He could not do it by staying with her and not handling matters of the state. _But we just got married! It's not fair!_ Part of her mind screamed. _That is irrelevant! Just smile for him, you're making him feel bad and it's not even his fault. _"Please Andro?" he asked and she looked up at him even managed a shaky smile. "It won't be for long." He said pressing his forehead against hers.

"I know, "she replied. "I'm sorry." He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose and finally her mouth. She pulled away and little and rubbed her nose against his.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked trying not to sniffle too much.

"Three weeks." He replied.

"Three?" she gasped her eyes widening.

"It takes time, Andro." He replied.

"Two weeks." She begged.

"Three." He said.

"Two."

"Three."

"Two and a half?"

"Three."

"Two and three days?" she asked. He looked at her for a moment and then shook his head.

"I promise nothing. But I will try." He said, relenting. She smiled and nodded.

"Thank you." She replied. He pulled her into his arms and she pressed her face into his chest breathing in his scent. Already she missed him.


	15. The Second Claiming

1**Chapter 15. The Second Claiming**

Andromache sat at her vanity brushing out her hair. Her hands were shaking with nerves and her stomach was in knots. Tonight was the night... she had already decided it. She had put if off long enough. Tomorrow he left for Corinth, and she couldn't bear the thought of him leaving without her fulfilling her duties. Although that wasn't the whole of it. She had to admit that it was the thrill of finally knowing the truth of what it meant to be a woman. Her whole life she had wondered what it was life. She felt her neck and cheeks flush hotly as her hands faltered. She had been kissed by him... but he had yet to claim her for she had yet to let him. She was still nervous but the excitement overcame the fear. She wanted to be with a man. He would be gentle and caring; she knew that, he would be generous and considerate; this she knew as well. She was ready to know, and she wanted it to be him. He was a warrior. What if he died while he was away? Would she be so lucky to be married to a man like him twice? She didn't think it could happen. This marriage had been such a blessing already she didn't want to chance it. If he died she'd at least have that memory of not his child. She resumed brushed her hair, staring at herself in the mirror. He had said that she was beautiful before. He didn't seem to mind that she was very thin and her cheekbones were impossibly large. She didn't think it bothered him that she was as tall as most men and had more opinions than half of them, or that her neck was so long she looked like an egret. She paused again and glanced down at her long slender hands. Maybe she was too skinny she thought. Her wrists were so slender that most bracelets just fell off. Looking up at her reflection she bit her lip as anxiety returned, Her eyes were huge, her mouth too full, she freckled in the sun and had a decent sprinkling of golden dots along her chest and cheekbones. What if he found her unattractive! She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She was being silly and she knew it. All she needed to do was take another deep breath and think about what he made her feel, his eyes when he kissed her. The butterflies returned and she smiled, remembering the ribbons of sensation along her form when his hands wondered. The door opened and she looked up to see him enter. He seemed frustrated and annoyed and his hair was impossibly disheveled. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and cracked his neck as he closed the door. She rose and turned to face him and his caught sight of her. He paused noting her apparel and she blushed thinking of how provocative this night rail was. His eyes ran up and down her body and then stopped on her face.

_Wow..._

_Shut up!_

_Wow..._

_Stop it!_

"Andro?" he asked carefully. She locked her knees and walked over to him.

"How was it?" she asked. He paused, frowned and then shrugged.

"Same as always. They never listen to me, I don't even know why I attend." She smiled, stopped before him, reached up and started removing the clips from his hair. He knew that he had had something to say but her fingers were very distracting. They moved deftly and gently, combing through his hair until all the clips were gone. Then she turned and walked over to their vanity table and placed them there. "What are you doing Andromache?" he asked, trying not to notice how her hips moved beneath the all but transparent material. She paused, her back to him and shut her eyes tightly. She ripped the edge of the table for a moment then let out a breath and released it. How many other women had he been with? Here she was all but trying to seduce him._ HIM_ the crowned Prince of Troy! Should she even bother? He would laugh.

_No, he wouldn't_

_So? He might as well, I'm being silly._

_You want this. You want him! Stop being silly and do something!_

"Andro?" She heard footfalls then felt the heat of him behind her. His hands gripped her arms and turned her around. He cupped her face in his rough hands and tilted it upward so he could see it. She smiled nervously and then ducked her head down.

"You leave tomorrow." she said.

"Yes." he replied. She looked up at him and saw the patience there. The kindness.

"I want to know what it is like." she said. He frowned in confusion and she took a step back. Then, without another word she crossed her arms over her chest and pushed the shoulders of her dress down her arms. The thin silvery material floated to the ground and she stepped out of it, clasping her hands behind her back, waiting.

_Oh my..._

_Calm yourself_

_But she's..._

_A virgin calm yourself..._

_And she's...she's..._

_Oh my..._

_Get a hold of yourself man!_

_Ok... but she's-_

_HECTOR!_

_Ok!_

He felt like he was about to pass out. For the life of him he couldn't draw in a proper breath. He saw her bite her lip and he felt his stomach tighten. Oh Gods, but she was perfect. When he was younger he had preferred his women lush and curvaceous. He didn't want a woman who looked like a slight breeze would knock her over. Yet, oddly enough, she was it. She was slender, understated, not a raving beauty, certainly not comparable to Aphrodite and yet there was a classical, regalness about her. She was narrow, though her hips flared out pleasingly, and her breasts were high enough and full if not large. They were noticeable. Her belly was flat and her legs long and slender, her skin smooth and golden.

_She's a goddess._

_Yes she is._

"Andro." he whispered, unable to say anything else, unsure of what else to say. She blinked and then looked down at her feet.

"I do not please you." she whispered.

"No!" he cried, coming up to her. "That's not true." He raised he chin and then placed his hands on her shoulders. "You're perfect."

"No I'm not." she replied.

"You are to me." Her mouth twisted wryly as her eyes shifted away from him. "You would dare argue with a Prince of Troy?" he demanded playfully. She bit her lip again, her eyes dubious. He cradled her face in his hands, leaned down and kissed her mouth. He heard her sudden intake of breath, and then her tiny moan as she melted into him. He felt her lips part and he brushed her tongue with his as he puled her closer. Her hands came up to hold onto his wrists as the kiss deepened and she felt the fear and the anxiety begin to melt away. He pulled away for a moment and looked down at her. "Andro are you sure?" he asked. She nodded and smiled, not trusting her voice and then rose up on her toes to kiss him again holding onto his shoulders. His arms slid around her waist pulling her flush against him. She could feel the smoothness of his robes against her bare skin, the strength of his arms. She knew that the power in his body could crush her, destroy her; and yet he was gentle, loving. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched into hin feeling oddly eager and excited. She wanted this, not just the act, but the man. She wanted this first time to be his, with him. He would make it perfect. His hands slid over her bare back pressing her closer to him. He felt her long, slender hands pulling at his robe, untying the cords that held it together on the front. He felt her try to reach in between their bodies to get the last but they were too close together. She pulled away abruptly and he took in her flushed face and swollen lips in satisfaction.

_I did that... She does look rather eager if I do say so myself_

_Virgin._

_I remember!_

_Virgin._

_Go away!_

As the more experienced one it was his duty to make her feel good, to please and teach her, to show her that here was nothing to fear. She had given him her trust and he would ensure that she was satisfied. Thoroughly. Even if it killed him.

_There's a happy thought!_

_Virgin._

_Not for long_

_VIRGIN!_

Finally, a duty that he wouldn't mind doing in the slightest. She blushed hotly and then untied the last two before pushing it off of his shoulders. Her hands pressed against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. Slowly they moved up over his shoulders, down his arms, to his warm rough hands. She trailed her fingertips over his stomach feeling the muscles tense then relax, jumping beneath her hesitant hands. She bit her lip as they moved to his skirt and butterflies swarmed her stomach. Once she removed this, he would be completely naked. He hands paused and her pulse raced. Oh Gods, this would probably be the worst.

_Just take it off!_

_But it-_

_Do it!_

_I can't... I can't._

She should have let him do it. She felt his mouth press against her temple and then her hair. She closed her eyes and smiled at his tenderness. Before she knew it her hands were shaking and she was nervous again. He felt the change almost instantly. He tilted her face up to his and looked into her eyes. Using his hands he pushed the hair back form he face, sliding into her hair to cradle the back of her head. She was not going to het scared now. Leaning down he kissed her again. Not gently this time, but passionately. It was slow and plundering and deep, causing her to moan in the back of her throat and sway forward and tremble. His mouth moved away from her lips, across her cheek, and her jaw bone, down her neck. She gasped and then shuddered against him. He suckled on the base of her throat and she jerked against him her hands flying up to his waist. His hands moved to her shoulders as he moved along her collarbone. Her fingers tightened on his waist and he buried his nose against her skin as his arms wound about her waist. Frankincense. It permeated his mind, filled his body and his arms tightened even more as he lifted her off of the ground. He pulled away slightly and saw that she was breathing heavily, her eyes glazed slightly with desire. His wife. She was his wife, and he was about to claim her as his forever. She moved her hands over him, thrilled at the play of muscles underneath his warm skin. He was so solid and warm, and suddenly she didn't feel thin and unattractive. She felt... delicate and beautiful. He leaned down and took her mouth again, slowly and passionately, completely. She groaned deeply, and slid her hands into his hair as she kissed him back without reserve. She barely registered that they had moved backward until her calves hit the bed. Her breasts were perfectly crushed against his hard chest. She felt him scoop her legs up against him and she settled against him. He kissed her cheek and the throat before pulling away again. She took a deep breath and pressed her lips together before opening her eyes. She smiled shakily and he smiled back before tossing her on the bed. She laughed a that, bouncing a bit as he crawled toward her. He rested a hand on her knee, noting that she wasn't nervous anymore. She wasn't concerned with her nakedness although he defiantly was.

If he could have told her how perfect he found her, he would have but his mind couldn't send the words to his mouth. He lowered himself next to her, his hand roaming up her leg and over her stomach to cup her breast in his palm. She gasped softly and closed her eyes for a moment as his hand covered the soft mound, kneading gently. He leaned in and kissed her mouth again, loving her taste, her smell. Where had this been his whole life? She arched into him moaning softly and his mouth moved down to her throat, suckling, kissing, inhaling her scent. Her hands came up to grip his arms and his hand slid down her side along her thigh. He loved the feel of her hands on him; long strong and narrow they moved carefully, hesitantly. She was still uncertain, unsure of what to do, how to touch but soon she would know. He felt his entire body quicken and tense as her fingertips trailed down his spine. Slowly. He needed to go slowly. One of her hands tightened on his hair pressing his head closer to her. Already she knew what she liked and what she wanted more of. He knew that her neck and shoulders were especially sensitive and smiled when her body jerked as he sucked on her collarbone. He reveled in the sighs and tiny sounds she made in the back of her throat. Sensing the change in her, he shifted his body half over hers, pinning half of her to the bed. He slid his leg between hers and sucked on the racing pulse at the base of her throat. His hand slid up her inner thigh, slowly, trying to give her time to realize his intent. He heard the rate of her breathing increase gradually and when his fingers brushed the curls at the apex of her thighs she gasped and her fingers tightened on his arms. "Shh..." he whispered against her jaw bone, as his lips brushed the skin. Gently, his hand touched her and she gasped again arching against him. Slowly he slid a lone finger withing her. She moaned and bit her lip, tightening around his finger.

_Ahhh Gods, damn, alright breathe..._ he shut his eyes tightly.

"Hector..."she gasped, her eyes wide.

"Shh... love it's alright." he whispered hoarsely.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Relax, you'll see." he replied. Then he kissed her trying not to give into the need to say 'to Hades with it.' and drive himself into her, ravish her. She was so hot and tight and wet, and he wanted her so damn much.Taking out his frustration on her mouth, kissing her deeper and harder, taking her breath for himself, he slowly slid his finger in and out, ignoring her moans and the fierce erection he'd been dealing with from the moment she stood naked before him. He knew that his manhood had a mind of it's own, but he had never had to have a debate with the damned thing. She groaned and he felt her nails biting into his skin as he tongue dueled fiercely with his. He felt her hands moving frantically over his back and shoulders, driving him crazy. He ducked his head and took the tip of one breast onto his mouth and she bucked against him and cried out. It flared the flames in his blood and Apollo help him he groaned as well. She felt like she was on fire. He was giving rise to feelings and sensations that she was positive couldn't be normal, or safe. There was an ache between her legs that was making her make strange noises. Her body was writhing against him in a hopeful attempt to make it cease but it only seem ed to make it worse. How did he know to touch her there? She had never even guessed it, why hadn't hr mother spoken of this miracle? His thumb settled against what seemed to be the source of that blissful ache and she bucked violently against him as shards of sensation shot through her system. Between his mouth at her breast and his hand at her mound she was going to explode. She groaned deeply and her hands fisted in his hair. Closer. She wanted him closer. It was growing. Whatever it was, sensation, pleasure, heat, all of it; in her belly and her breast in her very skin. His rough beard scraped against her skin as his mouth moved to her other breast suckling gently, his hands were hard moving steadily easily, his entire body was like warm marble. Every inch of her body felt sensitized, and then suddenly all feeling shot straight to her center, stars exploded behind her eyes and he mouth opened in a silent scream as ribbons of sensation slithered through out her body. He buried his face against her shoulder and waited for her to catch her breath, gritting his teeth against the voice in his head that was bellowing _NOW! NOW! Take her! _The ache in his loins was considerable and he felt about ready to explode but then he looked up at her. Seeing her skin flushed and her eyes closed, her breathing a bit labored. He smiled and waited, waited until her hands relaxed in his hair, and once they did he took her up and over again, adding another finger and then another, glorying in her cries and the movements of her body. She was perfect and as he felt her tighten around his fingers again he thanked the Gods for her and the gift that she was giving him. This time he didn't wait for her to recover. He removed his hand and started undoing his skirt.

_Shit... _

_Damn..._

_Shit..._

_Shit!_

_Oh gods this...SHIT!_

His hands were shaking and his heart was racing as he finally managed to undo the knot and remove the cursed thing.

_Finally, Gods..._

His swollen member practically sighed with relief and that voice in his head was a dull roar.

_Now, for Zeus' sake man! Bed her now!_

_I'm trying, shut up!_

"Oh my.." His head shot up to see her staring at him. Well not at him but rather at _HIM_

"Um..." he looked down at himself.

"That is... is it supposed to be that big?" she asked, rather concerned.

"Well it's..." he fumbled for words and damn it was he blushing again!

"Because didn't look that big before."

"Well it wasn't that big before." His cheeks were positively burning the traitors. He stared at her for a moment.

"Well then why is it that big now."

_Oh gods you are joking right?_

_Why the hell does she think its like that!_

_Calm down._

_This is impossible!_

_She's new to this_

_She wants a bloody lesson NOW!_

"Well, because you um... you... I'm" _About ready to die._

_Shut up!_

"Aroused?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Very." he said on a sigh. She blushed deeply.

"And it swells up like that?" she asked.

"Yes." he said. She bit her lip, staring at it again.

"Could you make it smaller?"

"It's really not that bad." he mumbled and she gave him a dubious look. "It's not! It's not complaint worthy or anything, but still."

"What are you going to do with that thing anyway?" she asked. He blanked and went a bit pale.

_Ahh fu... for the love of Hades!_

_Ummm... _

"You don't know?" he asked.

"Well my mother told me that it didn't take long and that I should just lie still and not complain." Hector raised an eyebrow.

_What the hell kind of advice is that?_

_I don't know..._

"Did she?" he commented. "Ignore everything she told you." she blinked. "I'll take care of you."

"I know." she replied smiling softly.

"And it will take long enough if I have anything to say about it." he said laying her back down.

"Will it hurt?"

"Only because it is your first time but..." _wait a minute_ "How long have you been riding?" he asked suddenly.

"Since I was five." she replied.

"Then it won't hurt." he said. She smiled and he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back arching up into him. There was no gentleness now. She wasn't hesitating now; she wasn't afraid of anything. Her fingertips dug into his shoulders, and her mouth opened up wide beneath his. He lowered his body onto hers slowly, her legs parting to hold him between them. She loved the weight of him, how hard his body was. Every single inch was like rock covered in sun warmed silk, The rough scrape of his short beard was thrilling against her sensitive skin, and his hands had that wonderful sensation pooling in he stomach again. Her hips shifted and she heard him groan deeply. Her hands faltered momentarily but then his mouth moved down her neck again and she moaned sliding her hands into his thick curly hair. Something thick hard and hot pressed against her center and she bit her lip against the feeling. Her body knew instinctively what she wanted it seemed and before she registered it she was writhing against him moving, taking her pleasure.

"Gods, Andro, stop..." he said roughly. She pressed her head back against the pillow moaning softly. She couldn't hear him, she couldn't feel the tension in his body; all she knew was that the wonderful coil of pleasure was growing, tightening and settling between her legs. _Closer, get him closer..._ her body screamed and her legs came up around his waist, her feet pressing into his thighs. Her hip lifted twisting desperately, her hands tightened and she cried out, arching up against him. Hector practically growled locking his jaw and praying to Apollo that he could bare it long enough to

truly please her. This time he didn't give her time to get ideas, he shifted his hips and drove into her. He maidenhead was all but gone due to years to riding and she was slick and ready from her recent orgasm. She gasped and arched up into him with a loud cry, her head thrown back into the pillows. His teeth closed around the pulse in her throat suckling passionately. She bit her lip, breathing hard, gradually getting accustomed to the feel of him inside her. He was thick and hard and throbbing against her walls. There hadn't been any pain at all just as he'd promised, merely a feeling of fullness and strangely enough one of wholeness, of completion, of rightness. Slowly she became aware of how rigid he was. He had rested his weight on his elbows, against the chafed skin. She ran her hands over his back, feeling the tense muscle coiled beneath his smooth, sweat dampened skin. He wasn't moving, in fact he was barely breathing at all.

"Hector?"she whispered shakily.

"Yes?" he groaned.

"What's wrong?" he laughed shakily.

"Nothing, I'm waiting for you to get... comfortable." he replied.

"Oh." she bit her lip, shifted and he closed his eyes, letting out a tortured groan.

"Gods... Andro don't move."

"Did I hurt you?" she asked starting to sit up. The movement caused him to slide more into her and he closed his eyes crying out. "Hector, oh my." she gasped. He had grown and... twitched? His head dropped to her shoulder.

"I can't do this..."he whispered. "I'm sorry Andro." She slid her hand down his back, pressing down on the small of his back, to his groan.

"It's ok." she whispered. "It's fine now." He bit his lip and arched his hips.

_Oh, Goddamn.. Yes!_

She gasped slightly and her eyelashes fluttered. He gritted his teeth and pulled out before pushing himself back in slowly. She arched her back and moaned. It felt good and... necessary having him inside her. With every silken thrust ribbons of sensation spiraled throughout her body, spreading heat across her skin. He moved deep, slow and deliberate letting her become aware and adjusted to the feel of it, of him. She pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut and let out a shaky sigh. Raising his head he stared down at her. She was ten times more beautiful like this, with her skin damp and rosy and her face... he leaned down and kissed her mouth. Her lips parted readily and she moaned, kissing him hungrily. Her hands slid down his back kneading, clinging, caressing. She wasn't shy anymore, and it made him almost ravenous for her. He moved down her neck, suckling, tasting reveling in her every sigh and sound, the hitch in her breath as he moved inside her. She felt perfect around him, wet and hot and tight and every time he moved it was exquisite agony. He felt her legs tighten around his waist and moved deeper. She groaned and arched her back and his mouth fastened onto the racing pulse at the base of her throat. She cried out again and raised her hips up to meet him. He hissed in a breath and paused before moving again; deeper, harder thrusts but not faster. He kissed her collarbone and shoulders, nibbling gently on her skin before soothing it with his tongue. Her hands sank into his thick hair, twining her fingers through the thick strands, holding him against her. She felt like she was on fire, the feelings racing though her body were so incredible, building until she was sure that she would explode or faint or die. He gave a deliberate twist of his hips and she felt the most incredible feeling breaking throughout her entire body. The sound she made, the sounds that she was making, were unfamiliar and shocking. He grabbed her hips and held her close as he thrust deeper and harder feeling the sensations build he buried his face in her neck biting down. She flung her head back and screamed, her nails drawing blood as impossible pleasure racked her body and then everything went black. Hector felt her close tightly around him and drove into her twice more before giving into his own release. The first coherent thought he managed to put together was that he was trembling, and that that hadn't happened in years. The second was that she felt like home; in her arms, mer mouth, her body was his home. It had been a long time since he had lain with a woman, but he knew that it had never felt like this. He buried his face in her shoulder and breathed in her scent; frankincense, and sex. There was something incredibly perfect about a woman's body after making love. Everything was arousing and yet comforting. Her body seemed softer, more beautiful, her skin was smoother and sweat slicked, warm and fragrant. He lay about Andromache, noting all these things, including the feel of her hands stroking along his back. Much to his dismay, it was putting him to sleep.

"Andro?" he muttered roughly.

"Hmmm?" she replied dreamily.

"You are putting me to sleep." he said. She giggled.

"That's alright." she replied, trailing her fingertips up his spine.

"Mmmm... no it's not. I'm the man, I'm supposed to show off my Trojan stamina and prowess and um... there's another one."

"Will power?" she asked, now playing with his hair.

"Mmmm, yes" he yawned and nuzzled her neck tightening his arms about her. "I should move... I'm too heavy."

"Only a little. I like it." she replied. He smiled and pressed a tiny kiss there, tasting salt. She shivered.

"Are you cold my love?" he asked raising his head to peer into her face. She seemed to be glowing; tired but satisfied and happy. She smiled at him, the slow sleepy smile of the well loved and shook her head.

"No I'm fine. Sleep if you are tired." she said drawing his head down to her breast. He smiled, nuzzling the soft mound of flesh.

"Wake me if I get too heavy." he muttered sleepily. She smiled to herself and continued to stroke his hair. She was truly his now. His seed was inside her, and he had made her a woman. It hadn't hurt at all... she had thought that it would have, if only a little. He had made it perfect just as she had imagined and she loved him for it. His weight was heavy but it made her feel strangely complete. She wrapped her legs around him and focused on the rhythm of his heart as it slowed and evened out putting her to sleep with him. It was fine now. Now everything was perfect.


End file.
